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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513180">Falsettos one shots</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graciethekay/pseuds/Graciethekay'>Graciethekay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>falsettos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:01:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>73,294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graciethekay/pseuds/Graciethekay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>These will be one shots, sometimes inspired by things I’ve read, sometimes not. Hope you enjoy</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charlotte/Cordelia, Marvin/Trina (Falsettos), Trina/Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Whizzer Brown/Marvin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Colours </p><p> </p><p>There is a beautiful moment in ones’ life. A second that changes everything forever. The moment when you see colour for the first time.</p><p>It is written about in children’s books, told as bedtime stories. </p><p>But Marvin did not believe in it. He had a wife and child yet he had never seen colour, he was stuck in black and white, and his wife was too. So he would go out almost every night, try to find the ‘one’ even though he did not believe. </p><p>He would make excuses to shake peoples hands, hug his wife’s friends, and try to do anything that would let him see colour.</p><p>That was how he found out he was a homosexual. Bars, meeting men who were much bolder than he was, men who were not afraid to have sex with other men, even though it was 1979. </p><p>He could not explain it to his wife, out of fear of her being shocked to her core, finding him disgusting, but she knew he was cheating on her. The neighbours would call her a clown behind her back, because they had seen the numerous men Marvin had brought back to his home, when his wife was out, only to see Trina wave them goodbye later after she came back, him kissing her cheek. </p><p>Marvin never really enjoyed being with Women, but he thought it was because of his age, or because he had not met ‘his soulmate’. When he first met Trina, he thought she was beautiful, he talked at her as they sat at a bus stop, she just sat there listening. It was the story of their whole relationship, she listened and he ‘accomplished’, as he would put it.</p><p>The first time they had sex was one of the only times they had sex, they had both been real ‘churchy’ growing up, was how they put it, and it really being the first relationship either of them had, nine months later, their son was born. It being 1969, they could not exactly have a bastard child, so Marvin begged Trina’s father to let them get married and at six months pregnant, Trina waddled down the isle. </p><p>It was not exactly Marvin’s ideal life, but it was comfortable. He was rich, and he considered himself smart, very smart. </p><p>He had a wife, child and white picket fence, and that was a version of what he wanted. </p><p>It was the brains and money that usually let him pickup people, or at least it was how he picked up whizzer. Unlike usual they did not have sex right away. </p><p>Marvin was out buying stuff for Jason, his son. His mind has drifted away to watch the man at the counter, hair perfect, tall, long legs that he would recognise for days. He was tan and his eyes were a dark colour that he assumed was brown due to how dark they were, almost black, filled with honesty. He would catch him taking glimpses at customers asses, watching him flirt with everyone. He was unapologetically himself, and Marvin had never seen someone like that, someone who did not care if people knew he was gay. </p><p>So Marvin would make excuses to go to the same shop, day after day and pretty soon, Whizzer noticed, there were only so many shirts a twelve year old boy would need. </p><p>Their eyes met across the room and Whizzer smirked at him.</p><p>“Dad-“ Jason pulled on Marvin’s jumper “- can I go buy and ice cream?”</p><p>Marvin opened his wallet, handing his son a ten dollar note, before the boy ran off. He took the stacks of graphic T-shirt’s to the counter and dumped them down at Whizzers bench. Whizzer had a piece of bubblegum in his mouth that he assumed was pink and blew large bubbles as he and Marvin conversed, now and again looking down to Marvin’s lips, eyes half closed and lusty. He scanned through all the clothes and printed the receipt, scrawling his name and number at the bottom, telling Marvin to call him. </p><p>So Marvin did call him. </p><p>Whizzer and him went out to a restaurant, Marvin bought him roses as he requested, handing them to him, confused as he saw whizzer still wearing gloves. </p><p>“Why do you wear gloves all the time?” He had asked<br/>
“I’m scared to find my soulmate.” Was Whizzers reply “, I see you’re married, is she your soulmate?”</p><p>Marvin had laughed at that,” do you think I’d be here if she was?”</p><p>The dinner was nice and different for a change to just sex, and he realised he had never been on a date with someone he was actually attracted to. It was summertime, and he enjoyed how light the setting of it was, and at the end of the evening, they walked to a park together, sitting over the chalk pits that whizzer said had been there for years. Sitting with Whizzer made Marvin feel young for once, letting him do the things he never got the chance to do before Jason was born. </p><p>Whizzer took his gloves off, complaining that his hands were getting sweaty, his long, dainty fingers tracing tiny patterns into the chalk on the floor as they watched the sunset, the different shades of grey beautiful to the pair of them. </p><p>“What do you think your favourite colour is?” Whizzer asked.<br/>
“Yellow, apparently the sun is yellow, and that’s the colour of dandelions. What about yours?”</p><p>Whizzer smiled sweetly,” mine is pink, the shade of grey of the one pink shirt I own is nice.”</p><p>Marvin moved the hand that he was leaning on slightly to the side and his pinkie entwined with Whizzers and suddenly he could see the sunset, the beautiful reds and oranges blending into yellows and pinks. The tiny purple flowers around the pair, and it brought tears to his eyes as he looked at whizzer wearing a mint green shirt, his brown eyes having tiny speckles of green. He basked in the beauty for a second, seeing all the new colours he had never seen, before he asked.</p><p>“Do you see it too?”<br/>
Whizzer replied, “What are you talking about?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Authors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don’t expect regular updates, I just found some prompts on Pinterest that I enjoyed. </p><p>Trigger warning ⚠️ </p><p>Talk of crimes that have been committed <br/>Talk of suicide</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Authors </p><p> </p><p>Authors had become smart. Very smart. Ever since JK Rowling wrote her series that spawned the most terrifying man of all time, everyone had taken to killing off the good characters rather than the villains. </p><p>When fictional characters die, they become real. They forget almost all of their memories, no one knows it is them, but they have one memory from their fictional life.</p><p>That one memory can change everything.</p><p>For example, Moriarty from Sherlock Holmes. He spawned with his memory being the name Holmes. Growing up he lived normally, his name not even being James Moriarty, but he searched for the name Holmes, and one day he found the books, reading them and feeling inspired by the evil Professor. </p><p>That boy was behind several of the most evil and thought out crimes. The Chicago Tylenol poisonings of 1982, a string of unsolved murders across the United Kingdom, and several acts of terrorism he was hired perform. </p><p>He eventually commit suicide, no one being sure why. </p><p>The worst of all time was a man called Sebastian Moss. He came back in 1972. He was so dangerous after he figured out who he was, and he had to be executed. He was born remembering one thing.</p><p>He could be invincible by killing. </p><p>Someone believing they could live forever leads them to do terrible, terrible things. Like eating cereal and milk separately. </p><p>Or being the cause of 911. </p><p>He was only a teenager when he committed his first murder, he drowned a ten year old boy for being black. He was a monster. </p><p>Later he would go on to kill many people of minority only to laugh when he got caught. When he was sentenced to execution, he laughed, telling them he would live forever. </p><p>Then he fried to a cinder on the electric chair, even if he lived through it, he would not have been a person anymore. Just a shell or body without life or soul.</p><p>That boy was Voldemort. </p><p>And that was why the world was banned from killing off the villains, the ones so evil that they could change history. </p><p>Marvin Feldman was an author writing about the AIDs crisis. He spent years slaving over his book, creating beautifully written characters who could be real people. </p><p>But in the process he fell in love with one of them. It sounded cliche when he said it out loud, but he wanted someone so much like the character Whizzer Brown. </p><p>So he realised he could.</p><p>So he wrote the character of Whizzer to die from the Disease. </p><p>The issue is, the author has no way of choosing the memory the character is reborn with. Or the time period, so Marvin had no way of finding the love of his life. </p><p>So instead he loved each day as it came, trying to find him. </p><p>And then, one day, he decided to give up, beginning his new novel. Heartbroken.</p><p>He would go to cafes to write, going at opening time and getting lost in his work not leaving until he was kicked out. </p><p>“Excuse me sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave unless you’re ordering something else.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m so sorry…” he looked up to see a man who was so perfect he did not know whether he wanted him to smile at him, or to fuck him right there over the table. His mouth went dry as he stared at him, trying to memorise his face, for reasons unknown to him.</p><p>The man, who’s name tag read Sam, cocked his head at Marvin, a ghost of a smile trailing over his lips. “I’m sorry, but do I recognise you from somewhere?” </p><p>“I’m not sure, do you read?” Marvin asked, swallowing his nerves, since when did he get nervous?</p><p>“Yes, quite a lot.”</p><p>“Ummm, I’m an author I wrote Falsettos, you probably haven’t heard of it.” Marvin replied.</p><p>Suddenly a look of utter recognition and happiness crossed over Sam’s face. He pulled Marvin up, his arms around his waist, and kissed him like it was his last day on earth. </p><p>“Whizzer?”<br/>“Marvin!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Yellow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yellows my favourite colour. Just wanted to say that!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you ready?”</p><p>Whizzer shook his head violently, the grimace on his face twisting knots into his own stomach.”what if I just don’t sleep?” He asked, hope in his eyes.</p><p>“Honey, it doesn’t work like that.” His mom replied as she sat on the floor of his bedroom. The tiny attic room was cozy and Whizzer lay in his single bed, curled up to the side slightly so that he could see his mom. “Even if you don’t fall asleep it will happen.” She shook her head slightly, a comforting look on her face.</p><p>“Mama, what’s your power?” He asked, trying to steal time that she could sit with him.</p><p>“I’ve told you before Whizzer, now get to sleep, it’s your Birthday tomorrow!” She kissed his forehead and got up to leave, but whizzer grabbed her hand, her worn yet soft fingers closing around his own.</p><p>She turned to see his large brown eyes open as though he was a puppy, but deep down she could see the terror they held,” please mama. I’m scared.”</p><p>She sighed,”alright-“ she placed her hand on his forehead, brushing away tiny strands of hair that had fallen. “- you never know what your real biggest fear is until your power comes. I always thought I was afraid of spiders.”</p><p>“I’m afraid of spiders!” Whizzer interjected, fear in his face.</p><p>A sympathetic look crossed his Mother’s face,” well that may not be your true fear.” She added,” I was afraid of being alone, so I have the power to see those around me who have gone.” </p><p>Whizzer smiled slightly,” so that means that you’re never alone?”</p><p>“No whizzer-“ she said, a pained look on her face”- in theory I should never be alone, in reality I’m surrounded by too many people for me to ever feel as though I’m not alone. People who I’ve never met, people who I never wanted to see again. The only people who are missing are the ones I want there to be.” Her head snapped to the side.</p><p>A terrified look crossed Whizzers face as he saw his mother’s dead eye stare at the corner of the room, tilting her head as though she was listening. </p><p>“Mama?“ he asked “mom?” </p><p>She snapped out of her daze, a nauseating smile adorning her face, “look whizzer, you need to sleep, good luck for tomorrow.”</p><p>She stayed with him until he fell asleep, clutching at him as he slept, scared of what might happen to him. </p><p>The next day he went to school like usual, everyone wishing him a happy fifteenth birthday as he waited for 2:27pm. The exact moment he was born, nausea setting in. </p><p>He closed his eyes as the clock struck, terrified of what was going to happen to him, his breath was shallow and shaky. It was the one time everyone would treat people with respect, when they were getting their power. The ones who already had theirs, looking on with sympathy, the others with fear. </p><p>Then he opened his eyes. The faces of those around him lit up yellow. His eyebrows knitted together as he stared at them, he saw a girl whisper something to her friend and suddenly her face was pulsating yellow, like the sun.</p><p>Cruel. He had heard cruel tales of how people’s powers affected them, but he never once thought how bad it would really be. Seeing the happiness on other people’s faces when he himself did not have it. Knowing exactly how to make people happy, when no one would ever know how to make him happy. </p><p>His power was to make people happy, when he himself must suffer in silence.</p><p>And that was how he lived for years.</p><p>-</p><p>“Does anyone understand, all I want’s a kiss! anyone understand?” Marvin yelled at Whizzer, the yellow flickering.</p><p>“Oh, don’t start explaining-“ whizzer retorted, his jaw set hard”- I’m sick of explaining!”</p><p>Their voices overlapped as the volume increased.</p><p>“This had better come to a stop Marvin.” <br/>“Now whizzer.”<br/>“Ciao Marvin bend”<br/>“This had better come.”<br/>“This had better come to a.”<br/>“This, this, this.”<br/>Whizzer pushed over his suitcase, “this” moving Marvin’s hand away from him. </p><p>Together they made it final,” this had better come to an end.” And Whizzer picked up his suitcase, slamming into Marvin as he left. </p><p>“This had better come to an end!”</p><p>He ran down the stairs out of the apartment, reaching the street as he stood under the porch, the rain pouring from the sky. “Fuck prophetic fallacy!” He muttered to the man standing next to him, then he noticed it. </p><p>No more yellow. </p><p>From upstairs he heard the window fly open and his now ex boyfriend yelling, a glass bottle smashing on the pavement in front of him.</p><p>“Fuck you whizzer!” He yelled down at the Man with the suitcase. </p><p>Whizzers voice was so powerful it brought fear to Marvin, icy as though a thousand icicles were ramming into his heart. </p><p>“Leave me alone Marvin.” </p><p>He was quiet as he said it, intimidating Marvin even more.</p><p>“This is all your fucking fault Whizzer.” He responded<br/>Whizzer threw a hand up in the air “I said leave me the fuck alone.” </p><p>As he said it the ice flew from his hand, hitting Marvin straight in the chest, he flailed slightly, his head spinning and he cursed in pain before falling away from the window out of Whizzers sight. </p><p>A lump formed in Whizzers throat as he realised his new fear. Being so scared he would end up alone that he had become icy, frozen everyone out from his heart and purposely messed up all his relationships, so he would not feel the pain of losing someone.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. How I met your father</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No, I’m fine.” </p><p>“You don’t look fine-“ Charlotte put her hand to Marvin’s forehead”- I’m gonna book you an appointment at the surgery.”</p><p>From his position on the couch, Marvin, swathed with blankets and tissues stuck up his nose, tried to get up, only to have Charlotte push him back down. </p><p>“I’ll schedule you with the cute doctor.”</p><p>Marvin perked up slightly.</p><p>“Cute?”</p><p>Cordelia entered with a bowl of chicken soup.</p><p>“Is it Katie, she’s kinda cute.” She handed Marvin the soup and stood up again, looking at Charlotte who was throwing her the stink eye,” honey, you know I love you.”</p><p>A cute smile crossed charlottes face and she quickly pecked Cordelia on the lips. “No actually, it’s Dr Brown.”</p><p>“Dr brown? Oh wait is he the one with the abs?” Cordelia asked.</p><p>“He sounds like an old, white guy.” Marvin pointed out, sneezing into a tissue and groaning.</p><p>Charlotte ignored him, “No he’s not the one with the abs, he’s the tall one, who looks like a Greek god.”</p><p>“Oh, the gay one?” Cordelia started</p><p>Suddenly Marvin started to pay attention, “he’s gay?”</p><p>“Yes he’s gay.” Charlotte replied as she dialled Whizzers number, waiting for him to pick up. </p><p>-</p><p>Whizzer leant over to kiss the guy he was riding, kind of bored at how slow the pace was. Suddenly the sound of his phone rang out threw the room, and he rolled his eyes and huffed slightly as he picked it off of the bedside table.</p><p>“What?” He barked down the phone.<br/>“Hey Whizzer, it’s Charlotte.”<br/>An impatient look crossed his face as the guy beneath him slowed down and he nodded trying to speed him up.</p><p>“Oh Charlotte hi, I’m kind of busy right now!” His voice cracked slightly as the guy sped up, hitting something that felt deliciously good to him.</p><p>“I’m calling in my chit.”<br/>“Shit-“ he moaned slightly “- sorry you said chit?” He quickly saved it.</p><p>Charlotte, being extremely smart, figured out exactly what was going on,” oh shit, should I leave you and your boo alone or-“</p><p>“Woah girl, I do not have a boo, this guy isn’t even a good fuck-“ he put his hand over the speaker of the phone, “- sorry hon, nothing about you, maybe slightly rougher?” He picked up his pace and Whizzer nodded, every now and again small moans escaping from his mouth,”so, what do you want?”</p><p>“My friend’s sick, and he refuses to let me check him out, can you do it tomorrow?”</p><p>“Fuck, yes right there-“ whizzer moaned not even moving the phone away this time”- I’ll check him out, he cute, gay?”</p><p>He could hear a cough from the other end of the line and then the sound of a bowl dropping onto the floor followed by a flurry of curses and the sound of heels. </p><p>“Does ill and gay suffice? Also I’m sorry but I’m not really used to having phone sex with a man.”</p><p>“Oh I’m sorry am I too masculine for you-“ he moaned in a high pitch”- that better… holy fuck, yes yes yes.”</p><p>“I’m gonna hang up now, see you tomorrow Whizzer.”</p><p>-</p><p>“Do I have to?” Marvin moaned.</p><p>Charlotte had practically dragged him the next morning to her workplace, Marvin sneezing and coughing aggressively the whole way. </p><p>“You’re gonna love Dr Brown.”<br/>“He was literally having sex on the phone from what I heard last night!” He sniffled, taking a seat in the waiting room and pouting like a child.</p><p>“He’s totally professional at work Marv, we all have our secrets for at home.”</p><p>Charlotte went up to the front desk, signing in and grabbing her white doctors coat, her name embroidered upon the left pocket. She then asked the receptionist whether Whizzer was in and she nodded in reply. Then Charlotte, beckoned to Marvin and he trailed slowly after her, protesting what she was doing. They reached a large wooden door, a ‘Dr Brown’ letterhead hanging from it and Charlotte knocked on it, hearing his muffled voice on the other side. </p><p>“Come in.”</p><p>Charlotte poked her head around the door, “Yo Whizzer… what the fuck’s with the glasses?” </p><p>“Contacts dried out.”</p><p>“I’ve got Marvin Feldman here, the friend I was talking about from last night.”</p><p>“Aight, send him in before my first patient.”</p><p>Charlotte turned to Marvin,” he’s all yours.”</p><p>“I’m gonna kill you when I feel better.” He replied, walking into the office. He sat in the chair, Dr Brown typing in his computer, back turned to him. </p><p>“So Marvin, what are your symptoms?” Dr brown asked as he continued to type in Marvin’s medical record.</p><p>“Cold like, makes me wanna die inside.” He joked causing Dr Brown to snort,” also a bad cough.”</p><p>“Alright, imma need to check your breathing-“ Dr brown said, turning around to face Marvin for the first time and Marvin’s heart stopped. Dr Brown was not an old white guy, he was young, very young, and he was gorgeous, clean shaven with dark, intense eyes, a pair of old 80s style glasses, intensifying the dark bags under them, and perfect teeth as he smiled. </p><p>Then Marvin got nervous. </p><p>Dr Brown took out the stethoscope from his bag, putting it around his neck,” m’kay, can you pull your shirt up for me Marvin?”</p><p>Marvin blushed slightly, looking away from Whizzer as he pulled up his shirt. Whizzer put the cold end of the stethoscope onto Marvin’s chest, moving it over his heart listening to the beat as he asked Marvin to breath slowly in and out.</p><p>Whizzer smirked at Marvin,” hmmm… it’s faster than average.” </p><p>-</p><p>“And that’s the story of how your Dad’s met!” Charlotte finished, stroking her godsons hair and getting up to go downstairs. She paused in the doorway of the room, staring at the sleeping boy and smiled, “ I love you Jason.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Flower girl -the lesbians</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I think this version of our gals is cute. Gracie Out</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Flower girl</p><p> </p><p>Every single Saturday she would pass the house, the beautiful house. It was the only bright, happy one on the dull, dingy street, and it brightened Charlotte’s day before she went to do the thing she hated. </p><p>The house was lilac, with a yellow door, the complimentary colours, standing out, but you could barely see them through the garden. The luscious high rising garden, bright and with the prosper of hope, the new seeds each spring feeling like a new beginning.</p><p>And Charlotte walked past it to go to the cemetery. </p><p>Every Saturday since she was young, paying her respects to her mother. She would walk down the street that led there, and would sit on the long dewey grass, picking at it to prevent her tears from falling, twisting and breaking it into small pieces as she asked her mom for advice. </p><p>And then the new people moved into the house, she never actually saw them, only saw the growing garden, the painted walls, the collection of shoes on the porch. One mans, one women’s, and one girl. </p><p>In the beginning Charlotte would peak cautiously into the window inside of the white picket fence, just to see if she could spot the family, but only heard singing. A young girl, her voice sounding like a siren, foreign and beautiful, leading Charlottes curiosity to peak.</p><p>So she began to steal from them. </p><p>At the start, it was just a daisy, a rose petal, a tiny sprig of lavender. That was before she became cocky, picking whole flowers, carnations, roses, at Christmas time, mistletoe from the apple tree. And finally bouquets of her mother’s favourite flowers, bluebells, heather and pansies in the winter and lavender, sweat peas and begonias for the summer.</p><p>They made her feel sunny. Leaving them in the small jar at the grave, and taking out the previous weeks ones, taking them home with her and looking through them until she found a good one, pressing it in a small note book she kept in her bookshelf, hidden from the world, that cruel, miss understanding world.</p><p>And that was how it went for years, until one day.</p><p>She picked the flowers nearest the white picket fence, she was in a rush and it was early evening, she had a test to study for and was on her break. Suddenly she heard the front door open and a girl yelling, Charlotte jumped away from the fence, holding the flowers behind her back. </p><p>“So you’re the one stealing my flowers.” The girl said, accusingly at Charlotte. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I just… I kind of need them and you know how expensive they are at the shops-“<br/>“Ohhh, so you’ve got a date.” The girl interrupted.<br/>“No I don’t!” Charlotte replied getting slightly nervous as she said it. “ it’s not any of your business but I’m actually gay.”</p><p>The girl crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes,” guess the flowers make more sense then-“<br/>“- They are NOT for a date.”<br/>“Wait here.”</p><p>The girl ran inside and for a brief moment Charlotte questioned running away from the insane girl, but suddenly she was beside her again.</p><p>“Did you just change your entire outfit?” Charlotte asked, looking her up and down. She was now wearing a crop top, bright bubbly lettering adorning it, a pair of extremely skinny jeans that seemed to accentuate her long legs and doc Martins.</p><p>The girl snorted “Ummm yes, do you think I’d be going outside dressed like that?” She bent over, and rolled up the cuffs of her Jeans, “much better, so where are we headed?”</p><p>Charlotte opened her eyed wide,” I’m sorry, where are WE headed?”</p><p>“Well you can’t expect me to let you keep taking my flowers unless I’ve met the girl and seen if she’s good enough for them.”</p><p>Charlotte blinked rapidly before realising she was not gonna get rid of this girl anytime soon, so set off in the direction of the cemetery.</p><p>“What’s your name?” The girl asked as she ran to catch up with Charlotte.<br/>“Charlotte, you?”<br/>“Cordelia.”</p><p>Charlotte walked fast, and even Cordelia who had long legs, found it difficult to keep up with her.</p><p>Charlotte sighed before talking “You’re good at singing.”<br/>“That doesn’t sound creepy at all.”<br/>“Well, sometimes I hear you when I pick the flowers.”</p><p>Cordelia smiled sweetly at her, “that’s really nice of you to say, most of my friends think it’s annoying.”</p><p>Charlotte scoffed,” well, if I could sing, I would do it all the time too.” She rounded into the tall metal gate, pulling it closed after Cordelia followed her in.</p><p>“I’ve always thought you were really pretty.” Cordelia said after the long pause of them walking along the gravel path. </p><p>“Hold up, you’ve known it was me for a while?”<br/>“Since I was small, but you got quite daring recently so I decided I wanted to meet the person you give them too.” <br/>“Well I guess you’re about to.” She stopped at her Mums grave and sat down in her usual spot, scooting along and patting the space next to her. Cordelia’s jaw dropped as she realised what she had intruded on.</p><p>“Cordelia, this is my mum.”</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Night club</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is short but I thought it was chill</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He sat at the desk for what felt like hours, the bottle of Jack Daniels almost empty, giving him the courage he needed, and he rang the number on the old telephone at the desk. </p><p>He had done it so many times that it now felt like clockwork and he did not even need to think before he tapped the numbers, the small clicks calming him as he  held the phone to his ear. As soon as he heard the click from the other end, he started to speak, his words slurring from the alcohol.</p><p>“Look, i am so fucking sorry, I couldn’t say it and you know I can’t, I’m just, I’m just fucking broken from Trina. I want to tell you that I love you, I really do, but I’m scared that If I say it out loud, you’ll think that I don’t actually mean it. So I’m waiting. Look, I’ll work less hours to see you, I’ll let you live with me, I’ll drive you to work each morning, I’ll do couples shit that I hate so much, I’ll do that all for you. Because I do… I do… I do but I can’t say it. I just feel so shitty for leaving you there in that crappy apartment because I was too scared to tell you I love you. Please, let me come over tonight cutie, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He just sat listening to the breathing at the other end of the line, catching slightly as they turned into sobs in his partners throat.</p><p>“It’s over Marvin.”</p><p>And he hung up.</p><p>Marvin drowned his sorrows at the bottom of the bottle, staggering to his feet and trying to work the clasp on his briefcase. He banged it angrily against the table as he failed to open it, sitting back down again and screaming into the decorative pillow that sat on the couch in his office. He stopped shouting, taking deep breaths in and out and tried to put his suit jacket on, getting it caught in his suspenders and knocking over a glass jar. He shrugged as he watched it crash to the floor, realising he did not even like it anyway, and suddenly the phone rang. He almost tripped over as he grabbed it, pulling the chord taught and falling with a tiny yelp to the floor.</p><p>“I knew you’d come around love. Shit, I love you, I love you, I love you. I finally said it-“ tears slowly fell down his face as he felt the relief of finally letting go of the words that he had been holding back for years. “- you stopped me from being damaged, how could you be so kind to me. How can I repay you?”</p><p>“I think I got the wrong number.” The voice at the other end replied sheepishly.</p><p>“Wait so you aren’t my partner and you aren’t getting back together with me?”</p><p>“Oh shit, I’m so sorry to give you hope dude. What’s your name?”</p><p>Marvin choked back the sobs that were catching in his throat, trying so hard to sound masculine “I’m Marvin, who are you and how did you get my number?”</p><p>“I’m Whizzer, my friend recommended you but I don’t think you’re a prostitute, are you?”</p><p>Marvin laughed,” no I’m a lawyer.”</p><p>“Do you know any good prostitutes?” Whizzer asked, seemingly not caring about Marvin’s answer.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m not really into the whole ‘night club’ scene.”</p><p>“So you’re gay?”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“Oh honey, it’s 1987, my wallstreet buddies have ‘tutes’ at work, the only reason you wouldn’t be into the ‘night club scene’-“ he said, mocking Marvin “- is if you aren’t into the people at the night club scene.” Whizzer could hear the fear through the phone<br/>“Also you said partner not girlfriend or wife. You probably wouldn’t say boyfriend to a random stranger.”</p><p>“Well since my night can’t get any worse, yeah you’re right, I am gay, if my boss finds out, I will be fired so please don’t tell him.”</p><p>“Well, Marv-“ his tone was smooth and cocky and Marvin loved yet hated it at the same time “- I don’t even know who your boss is. Anyways I wasn’t askin’ for female prostitutes.”</p><p>Marvin cocked his head slightly, looking to the clock on the wall, realising it was late, but not late enough for him to be able to face his empty house. </p><p>“Where’d you work?”<br/>“Wall Street. Head trader of a big firm.”<br/>“Top or bottom?”<br/>“Top.”<br/>“Where do you wanna meet, I need someone to fuck me hard enough for me to forget about my ex.”<br/>“There’s a gay bar on Washington street called ‘Mine shaft.’”<br/>“I’ll see you there.”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Painting class</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>New perspective ahhhhhhhhhhh, tell me if you like it please.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One shot </p><p>I don’t know why I’m here. Trina decided to drag me along to one of those stupid painting classes, she said it will ‘improve our relationship, or some shit. To be honest I don’t want to improve our relationship, it’s been fizzling out for a while, like a sparkler, horribly bright at the beginning, but spitting out painful sparks that burnt and sliced at us. We knew it wouldn’t last, but now she seems to have a new found motivation for it to keep going. Trying to coax out the final flames. That’s why I’m here. </p><p>I follow her into the college classroom, she grips my hand tight, maybe too tight compared to my limp, loose one. She practically pulls me through the door, me stumbling behind her and she stops, turning to face me with disappointment on her face. I sigh, knowing it’s directed at me. It’s always directed at me, then she tries to fix my hair that has gone slightly too poofy from the rain outside, she takes my hand again, leading me to the ‘teacher.’ I almost roll my eyes as I see her, stereotypical, why is everyone so fucking stereotypical?</p><p>I tune out from the conversation and just notice things about the room, the strong scent of turpentine, the large canvases on their easels, the collaged walls filled with posters of Van Gogh, Monet, Matisse and many other artists that I’d never seen before. There were large sinks in the corners, colours spilling down the drains, staining the perfectly boring white, and colour. So much colour everywhere. </p><p>“So are you looking forward to the session today Marvin?” The ‘teacher’ asked</p><p>It was hearing my name that pulled me out of the trance, call me egotistical if you want, but I have better places to be than back in college again. </p><p>“I guess.” I murmured, feeling Trina’s disapproving stare rather than seeing it. She is so fucking predictable, ” I’m sorry, what was your name again?”</p><p>She smiled, but her eyes were set in stone as she replied,” Cordelia, I hope you get something out of this.” It seemed like a dig at me, but before I could utter a snide retort, Trina dragged me away, finding us a seat next to each at the front. She kissed my cheek as she sat down, her perfume clinging to me as though it knew what I was thinking. </p><p>I stared out of the window into the dark navy sky, wishing I could be out there. Yes away from Trina and the stuffy classroom, but also in the rain that fell, heaven blessed. Liking the rain seems to be a gothic literature thing, and Trina reminds me of it constantly, saying I don’t need to smell of black coffee and look depressed all the time. I just like turtlenecks and the library is a quiet place for me to get away from her as I write my novel. Thank fuck for libraries. </p><p>Then I turned my attention to our ‘teacher’ Cordelia, she seemed just as happy as me to be here, which is to say, not a whole lot. I guessed that she was probably a student doing it for extra credit, or someone who can’t seem to say no, no matter how hard they try. My mother was like that, I remember her taking a job as treasurer for the Boy Scouts group I joined, and still volunteering for two years after I quit. Cordelia had a piece of gum in her mouth, she absentmindedly blew bubbles, popping them with her sharp claws, otherwise known as acrylic nails, and was leaning against a desk, texting frantically, the nails clicking loudly, every now and again, tucking unruly strands of her blonde curly bob behind her ear. </p><p>“Okay, sorry we’re running a little late, my girlfriend is our model, but she has to work, she’s a doctor!” She stated it proudly and I cocked my head slightly, realising that maybe this girl was actually a teacher. I looked to my own girlfriend and saw the sour look on her face and scoffed slightly. Trina would never say she was homophobic, but she was always uncomfortable around gay people, people who were themselves, I guess it was how she was raised, but it’s inexcusable. </p><p>Cordelia started to talk again about different techniques for painting and again I stared out of the window , hearing the low grumble of thunder in the distance. Cliche and stereotypical. Shit that only happens in stupid books or crappy romcoms. Sometimes that’s how life is. Shitty coincidences that can only be written in a book. </p><p>I tuned back in again as I watched Cordelia’s graceful movements against the canvas, thick purposeful strokes, dark and bold. My attention was quickly turned to the door as suddenly it was banged open, a tall man almost fell into the room like a baby gazelle, clumsy as he knocked over Cordelia’s canvas, spilling turpentine on the floor. He stood up straight and started apologising profoundly to Cordelia, helping her pick stuff up from the floor. </p><p>His voice was quiet but audible to me on the front row “Fuck Cordelia, I’m so sorry.”<br/>“Okay take a chill pill Whiz, you’re doing me a favour, you don’t need to apologise.” <br/>The boy began to inhale as the excitement of what had happened caught up with him “What do I do?”<br/>“Strip.”</p><p>Cordelia turned to us, but my eyes were fixed on the boy who was struggling to get his tight jeans below his ass.</p><p>“Alright, so as I mentioned, our model is out today, so I’ve got my friend Whizzer to step in, this is his first time doing this shit so be kind-“ on hearing his name ‘whizzer’ stopped unbuttoning his pastel shirt, waving to us, his own eyes looking into mine. It was only a millisecond but I could swear I could see a smirk on his face as we made eye contact.</p><p>Whizzer continued to take of his clothes until he was left in his boxers, “these too?”</p><p>“Uh huh, I wanna know what you’re packing in there.”</p><p>Cordelia said as she eyed the bulge. Whizzer put up his middle finger as he pulled down the boxers with confidence. I felt my face heat up and my neck beginning to tingle as I looked down, which was a completely foreign feeling to me.</p><p>“Alright, Whizzer can you sit over there?” Cordelia pointed to a silk sheet set up over a chair and Whizzer sat down, he looked at me again and I felt my heart almost stop. </p><p>Cordelia told us to start painting what we saw and I looked over to Trina, who had already started, a stern look of concentration on her face and I looked back to Whizzer. He was fucking gorgeous. Hair sweeping over his forehead and gracing his chest, he was toned in a comfortable fashion, with fucking gorgeous thighs that I want to be suffocated in, and his dick, fuck I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Then he caught me staring. This is a painting class, but I felt wrong as he held my stare, and although he was the undressed one, I was the one drenched in nerves and sweat. </p><p>I didn’t paint much that session. Too busy watching, him, seeing his muscles ripple slightly as he readjusted his position every now and again. Then he would stare back at me as I watched, his eyes lusty and dark, as stormy as the night outside. And for a fraction of a second, he bit his lip and looked down at his cock, looking slowly back up at me, and suddenly I could picture him on his knees in front of me, making my knees shake and tremble as he basked in that post sex glow, tiny droplets of sweat glistening over his body. I cleared my throat as I cleared the picture from my vision and turned to whisper into Trina’s ear.</p><p>“Babe, I’m not gonna sleep at yours tonight, I’ve got to get some writing done.”</p><p>She put on a superficial pout of annoyance and trailed her fingers up my chest,” awww marv, do you have to? I was thinking, we could open a bottle of wine, put on some jazz, have a nice dinner and maybe you could have me for dessert?” Sickly and annoying.</p><p>It took all the effort in the world for me to not roll my eyes at how desperate she always was for us to have sex,” look, this painting class has inspired me, I know exactly what I’m going to write, thank you baby.” I kissed her cheek and around us everyone began to pack up, but we were stuck in our own, suffocating bubble. </p><p>“Okay then.”</p><p>I walked her to the foyer of the school and watched her get into her car, waving at her as she drove away. I stood there for a minute, debating whether to call a cab or not, and then I heard the two sets of shoes behind me. </p><p>“Thank you so much Whizzer, you really saved my ass.”</p><p>“No problem, say hi to Charlotte for me, I’ve got something I need to do.” The smooth voice of Whizzer replied. I heard several clicks of a lighter then the exhale of satisfaction, I turned around to face him. “Or rather someone I need to do.” He said to me as I blushed. “What’s your name, closet case?”</p><p>I began to stutter, my words jumping and dancing over each other,” um Marvin. Sorry how did you know I was…” I felt utterly mortified by the way I was acting, like a schoolgirl. I have always been the cocky asshole, but this man, this man broke me.</p><p>“You hate the girl you’re with, come home with me and I’ll show you fun.” He offered me the cigarette and I took it, not wanting to seem rude to this sex god. </p><p>“I’ve never… you know.”</p><p>He raised an eyebrow at me as he stole back the cigarette.</p><p>“You’ve never had sex?”<br/>“With a man.” I hastened to correct him, cheeks <br/>bright red again. </p><p>He looped his fingers into my empty belt loops and pulled me close, so close I could feel his dick rub ever so slightly against mine and I held my breath without realising, looking up at him. </p><p>“Awww baby, then you don’t know what you’re missing.”</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Starbucks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The alarm rang bright through Trina’s apartment and she struggled to open her tired eyes. Living off of three hours of sleep was not doing well for her and she almost did not drag herself out of bed, but remembering that her job was waiting was all the motivation she needed to get up. She grumbled to herself as she opened her fridge, sighing as it only contained a couple of bottles of formula milk and decided to skip breakfast, instead telling herself that she would pick up a muffin or something from Starbucks. </p><p>Slowly she walked over to her bed, smiling as she watched her baby sleep, he was only two, and slept in the same bed as her because she did not have enough money to buy him a cot, and had spent many nights scared that she would crush the tiny baby in her sleep. </p><p>What she did not count on was the fact that she would not be getting any sleep anyway, the crying baby keeping her up half the night. She attended her classes with the baby attached to her chest, struggling to get her degree, look after her child and work enough to be able to stay in college after her Jewish father disowned her for having a bastard child with an unknown father.</p><p>The father was known, she asked him if he wanted the baby and he said no, but did not want her to feel pressured into abortion. One day she would tell her little Jason who his Father was, but until that day, Marvin was a babysitter for when ever Trina needed him. She would have happily married Marvin except for the small fact that he was gay. He was still in that phase of saying he was bisexual when he slept with Trina, but came out not too long afterwards. </p><p>“Come on sweetie.” Trina said, picking Jason up from the bed, he was still half asleep and began to cry lightly, tiny sobs to signal how tired he was and Trina quickly gave him one of the bottles of milk, not even bothering to warm it up. She held him on her hip and left her tiny college apartment, she was lucky- after having the baby her college room mate moved out into her boyfriends apartment off campus, so she had the small room to herself and Jason. </p><p>She walked quickly to her old beat up truck, sitting Jason in the back baby seat and strapped him in, making sound effects as he burbled and giggled. “Mummy biscuit.” He said as she sat in the front. She sighed, rooting through the glove compartment.</p><p> “say Please Jason.” <br/>“Please.”  </p><p>She passed him a digestive and pulled out of the parking lot, pressing play on the dashboard, and the cassette of ‘Itsy bitsy spider’ began to play, Jason doing the movements in the back. The Starbucks was only five minutes away, and Jason was already almost asleep again by the time they got there. Trina parked the car out the front, unlocking the large metal grate and pulling it up, she opened the door, the loud alarm waking Jason with a start and the cacophony began. Baby crying and Alarm blaring. She put him down behind the counter, chucking his favourite teddy bear at him and ran to the backroom, putting the code into the alarm system, trying to calm down as it came to a stop. </p><p>Trina hated working the five am shift, no one came in, which made it a good time for her to study, but it also meant that her sleeping schedule was messed up. She tied up her green apron and turned on all of the machines for the morning and got out her books and a couple colouring books for Jason. He gurgled quietly in the corner, making curious noises as he worked, and Trina making herself a coffee and a muffin. She then went back to making notes on her previous lecture, making large spider diagrams and bright pictures.</p><p> She was half way through her coffee when Jason began to cry again, and she picked up the boy, holding him on her hip and rocking him up and down as she shushed him. </p><p>“Umm, hi?”She looked up to see a man looking somehow incredibly awake for five thirty in the morning “are you open ?”</p><p>She instantly put Jason down, knowing she was not meant to have him at work and he continued to cry on the floor. </p><p>“Yessir, what would you like?” Her mind instantly drifted to the bags under her eyes and the unkempt nature of her almost curly hair that she did not have time to brush this morning, wondering if the decently attractive man would notice her flaws.</p><p>“I’d like a hot chocolate.”<br/>“Anything else mister?” <br/>“No thank you, have I seen you before?”</p><p>He started to make small talk as she started making his hot chocolate, she flurried around the kitchen, trying to calm Jason as she frothed the milk.</p><p>“I do morning shifts here, although no one ever comes in. How do you look so… awake?”</p><p>The man laughed “If you don’t sleep then it doesn’t catch up with you, Trina.”</p><p>“How the… oh name badge right, but I do recognise you… what name do you want on your cup?”</p><p>“Mendel.” The man pointed at the work on the bench, “what are you studying?” </p><p>“I’m taking maths at the college… wait do you do student council?”</p><p>“Yes I do! You must be the girl who had a baby!”</p><p>Trina blushed slightly,” does everyone call me that? I’ve only got a year left.”</p><p>“You’ve done the whole two years with a baby?”<br/>“Yeah, got pregnant first term and almost went into labour in my finals.” She poured the powder into the milk, stirring it aggressively as Jason continued to cry. “Here baby-“ she passed him another biscuit from her purse and he quietened as he began to nibble at it. She  wrote Mendel’s name on a cup and poured the rest of the hot chocolate in, passing it to him. </p><p>“Bye Trina.”<br/>“Bye mendel.”</p><p>He came to the Starbucks every morning after that and always ordered a hot chocolate, getting to know Trina. She always wondered how he looked so awake considering the fact that he did not even drink coffee, and they soon bonded until one day he asked her on a date, anywhere other than a coffee shop. </p><p>years later they married, Having a second child together, Trina working as a maths Professor at a nearby university, and Mendel working as a psychiatrist at the local children’s hospital.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Painting class part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Someone said they liked this, so I decided to do a part 2, there will probs be a part 3 as well</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the first time we slept together he fell asleep next to me, body curled away as he slept. I couldn’t sleep, my head was reeling from the events that had happened, wondering how I could be such a dick to Trina. I don’t want to be with her but that doesn’t mean I should cheat. We were in my apartment, and we had made out after I pulled him out of the cab. He sucked hickeys onto my neck, pulled down my black turtle neck to make room and I tried ramming my key into my locked door, hands shaking in excitement and anticipation. </p><p>If it wasn’t for his clumsiness, we probably wouldn’t have ever met each other again. I would have just remembered his name as a whisper in my memory, a name that’s foggy when I try to remember it, sometimes coming to me unexpectedly in dreams or as my pen touches a page for the first time. It was because of the clothes strewn all over the floor from our excitement, and the darkness of my studio apartment leading Whizzer to trip over as he tried to sneak out.</p><p>“Where are you goin’?” I asked as I bolted upright in bed. “Do you need me to get you a cab?” </p><p>I could just make out his features as he stared at me from the floor.</p><p>“You care?” </p><p>“Well, I think you’re nice.” The sleep was apparent in my voice. “If you want, I can make you breakfast before I go to work.” I could almost sense how different this was to usual as he uttered his next words.</p><p>“Alright, thank you.” </p><p>I cooked him the only real food I knew how to, sunny side up eggs, and apologised for the state of my apartment, the single room making it difficult to separate my work life from my home life.</p><p>“So where do you work?” <br/>I was busy opening the curtains, letting the light stream in and following the dust particles as I replied,” I’m an author, trying to publish my second book. I work wherever I want to work.”</p><p>“The freedom must be nice.”<br/>“It is, what about you?”<br/>“I’m a photography teacher at the college.” </p><p>I stared at him intently for a second,” you’re young.” </p><p>“So are you.” </p><p>He didn’t finish his meal. I left to go to the bathroom, and thats when he left, half an egg on his plate. It was a melancholy morning, and he had left as though he was never there. A ghost, there and then gone. </p><p>But he left me a note. I didn’t notice it for days, busy writing, I sometimes get into these zones where I only write, psychologically you are more creative when you’re sleep deprived. It was when Trina came over to try and get me out of my writing mood and have a date with her, she found it. Cleaning away mouldy mugs from the milk in my coffee, or the obscene amount of takeaways, I should really learn how to cook. She was sorting my chapters into order when she picked up a page and handed it to me. </p><p>He had left me a note in the margin.</p><p>“Whizzer? Isn’t he the guy who was the model for the art class? Why do you have his number?”</p><p>I snatched the paper away from her, reading the note. ‘Sorry I had to leave early, couldn’t go to school in the same clothes, those kids are insanely observant. Had a fun time, Whizzer’. Inside, my heart fluttered and spun out of control, my head filled with cotton and I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t do anything. </p><p>“He’s shooting my portrait for my new book, the ‘about  the author section’. We had to do it at night because of his job.” I lied. I’d gotten good at lying to Trina, making up excuses is easy now.</p><p>I called that afternoon after Trina left. He asked where I wanted to meet him and I checked my watch. “The library.” Decided I could get more work done before fun.</p><p>-</p><p>The library was hot, the glass window ceiling panes making it feel like a greenhouse, I was wearing another black sweater and decided on a pair of turtle shell glasses. My mind was foggy with excitement, not writing anything, my eyes re reading the same part over and over again. </p><p>“Hey.”  His voice was soft and smooth like butter, that shit spreads real nice. He’s so fucking smooth until his clumsy ass trips over something. </p><p>“Oh hi!” I quickly try to pack everything up, but he stops me, putting a hand on my arm as he sits next to me. </p><p>“What are you writing about?” He asked me and I blushed. I don’t know why I blushed, I just did. I hadn’t told anyone what I was writing about, especially not Trina, it was a sensitive subject.</p><p>“I really don’t want anyone reading until I finish.” </p><p>He dragged a finger from my chest up to my chin, taking it with his thumb,”I read a page.” </p><p>I closed the gap between us slightly, looking down to his lips, ”you did?”</p><p>“Uh huh.” He leant In so close I could feel his breath on me, smelling the mint gum which he obviously used to get rid of the cigarettes that clung to his aura. My breath failed me, shaking at his closeness, anticipation waiting for his next move.</p><p>Suddenly I felt a splash of heat and I leapt up, coffee spilt all over my jeans. “Shit Marvin, I’m sorry.” He started to dab at my jeans with a napkin, and I started to shift where I was standing as I felt the blood rushing to my dick. </p><p>Whizzer knew exactly what he was doing, And he loved it, making me squirm. Somehow no matter where he was, he would always make you feel like he was dominating. </p><p>“You, come with me.” I hissed into his ear, dragging him to the back of the library, in the dusty philosophy section no one bothered to go. Even though I was the one who’s fingers were dug into his wrist, a look of boredom adorned his face that would almost never leave. </p><p>That was the challenge. Making him submit, and I always win. I spun him around and pushed his shoulders into the bookshelf, dust escaping from the old cracked spines of the books. For a second his lips parted and his eyes widened, but before I could confirm, his bored look appeared again.</p><p>“Oh Marv, I’m disappointed by your lack of foreplay.” He drawled as I bite at his neck. I know I’m not the first person to kiss down his body, I know I can only retrace lines that others have already drawn with their own kisses on his skin. I know that his scent had been inhaled by many before me. </p><p>No, I’m not going to delude myself as he pushes me against the wall, I’m not going to say that I’m the first.</p><p>But I hope I can be the last.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. A Conman’s kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is lowkey based off of white collar which has Matt Bomer, who may or may not be the most attractive man on the planet</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His mobile phone ringing through the house was unexpected for ten pm on a weekend. Marvin sat on the sofa with his wife in the living room, their son asleep on her lap, the dog on marvin’s feet. He knew something was up as soon as he heard the ring tone. The specific ringtone he used for work. </p><p>“This is Feldman.”<br/>“I’m sorry sir for bothering you but Whizzer Brown has escaped.”<br/>“I’ll be right there.”</p><p>Marvin got up quickly, kissing Trina and he steppped accidentally on the dogs tail, who wined, waking Jason up in the process. </p><p>“Daddy, where are you going?” <br/>“A bad man escaped, daddy has to find him.”</p><p>Trina lay Jason back down on the sofa and walked Marvin to the front door. “Who is it?”</p><p>He paused for a second,”Whizzer Brown.”</p><p>Trina rolled her eyes,” for gods sake Marvin, that means I won’t be seeing you for months.”</p><p>“If I go now, I’ll be right behind him love, I gotta go.”</p><p>He kissed her again and quickly got into his FBI issued car, speeding out of town to the large jail Brown had been incarcerated in. As he pulled up, flashing his badge at the large men with guns at the gate, he was buzzed through, parking his car and being met instantly by one of the agents he worked with.</p><p>“Griggs, what have we got?”<br/>“I’ve seen the tapes, snuck out as a guard sir.” <br/>“Do we know where he got the uniform?”<br/>“No sir must have made it, or had someone on the inside-“<br/>“Doubt it, do we know where it was hidden?”<br/>“Toilets, only place without cameras, he must’ve had inmates in on it too so they didn’t snitch.”</p><p>They entered the large concrete building and instantly were bombarded by the junior agents. “Alright everyone, who can tell me what vehicle he used to escape?” He addressed the crowd, “anyone?” He was met with silence and sighed in frustration,” where’s Diana?” </p><p>“Here sir” She said as she entered,” Brown hotwired a Jeep from one of the visitors, there’s less security during visiting hours, we’re running the plates now.”</p><p>“See you Harvard phonies, that’s how you all do your job. Don’t let Diana’s tits fool you, she has bigger balls than all of you combined.” He began to walk down the hall, following one of the guards and soon stopped as he reached Whizzer Browns cell, putting on gloves and going inside. The cell was neat, one wall filled with stereotypical tally marks, and Marvin brushed over them,” why did he do this? He only had two weeks left.”</p><p>Diana stepped in after him, fiddling through the books on the small shelf,” maybe a girl?” </p><p>“He’s gay.”</p><p>“Maybe a guy?”</p><p>“I never found out about any guy, there were a couple, but not any he was in a relationship with.” Marvin moved a large canvas out of the way and found a large air vent with loose screws.” Diana, look at this!” Inside were a couple of flyers, each of them from the same place in New York and a couple of paintings.</p><p>“What’ve you got boss?”</p><p>“Some flyers, I bet he’s here.” Marvin picked up one of the paintings, a perfect forgery of a Gustav Klimt piece ,” have you seen his forgery’s? This is perfect!” Marvin hated to admit it, but he actually admired Whizzer Browns artistic skills very highly.</p><p>“Yeah, I wrote my thesis on him at Quantico.”</p><p>“Okay, lets head out. Harvard idiots, check the security footage, how did he sneak out unrecognised? Griggs, Diana, you guys come with me.”</p><p>They drove through the city, following the directions to an old, empty art gallery in the middle of the upper east side. They had the building surrounded and Marvin made sure that no one would enter except for him.</p><p>“What if he’s armed boss!” Diana asked him, fastening his bullet proof vest.</p><p>“He won’t be.”<br/>“How do you know?”<br/>“I tracked him for seven years. I know everything about him. He can’t surprise me.”</p><p>He slowly opened the door, gun still in holster and walked through the echoing white room. “Brown.” He called out, the name bouncing through the building, out of the corner of his eye he saw a foot, and walked slowly in that direction. “Whizzer, My gun is holstered.”</p><p>“I know.” Marvin rounded the pillar to see the man he had hunted for years, still as sleek as ever, wearing his White shirt and blue suit trousers that went well with his eyes. In his hand was a bottle of red wine, almost empty, and he offered it out to Marvin.” Want some?”</p><p>“I don’t drink on the job.” He replied, sitting opposite him on the concrete floor.</p><p>“You’re wearing your lucky suit again.”<br/>“How do you know it’s lucky?”<br/>“Because that’s what you wore the last time you caught me.” He said, smiling as he took another swig of wine.</p><p>“Why’d you escape. You only had two weeks left?” <br/>“My mom died three weeks ago, I started to plan my escape so I could go to her funeral.”</p><p>Marvin sighed,” I’m sorry for your loss, I know you two were close.” </p><p>“The same way I know you’re not close to your parents.” </p><p>Marvin ignored his comment, continuing,” but you know there are legal channels you can go through.”</p><p>Whizzer smiled solemnly, reaching over to Marvin’s suit jacket and picking off something from the sleeve. “You’ve been working a case almost as hard as mine recently, haven’t you.”</p><p>“How’d you know?”</p><p>“Because you didn’t know I’d escaped until a couple of hours ago, you were already wearing the suit this morning working another case, hoping to get lucky-“ he waved the tiny piece of a computer chip in front of Marvins face ,” this was on your Jacket.” He continued “ I know what this is.”</p><p>“What is it.” Marvin asked curiously.</p><p>“No sweetie, it doesn’t work like that.” Whizzer replied, pressing the chip into Marvin’s palm, “there are two things I want. One today as collateral, and one if I’m right.”</p><p>Marvin’s jaw was set hard, angry. He had been working this case for months, and had no new leads until today, which blew up, leaving tiny chunks of the computer chips everywhere. “I’ll see what I can do.”</p><p>“This is a yes or no offer.” Whizzer replied smoothly.</p><p>“How do I know you’re not trying to trick me, you are a con artist-“<br/>“- alleged con artist! You got me on forgery” Whizzer butted in “oh well, guess you don’t want my help after all.”</p><p>Marvin hated himself for what he was about to ask.</p><p>“What are the favours?”</p><p>Whizzer smirked,” you have sex with me.”<br/>“I’m sorry what?”<br/>“You heard me.”<br/>“But I have a wife and-“<br/>“I know, I send her birthday cards every year, we once had tea before she knew it was me and number two, you arrange a little meeting with me after you’ve closed the case.”</p><p>Marvin stared at Whizzer. “Why the fuck would I want to have sex with you?” He asked.</p><p>“Oh Marv-“<br/>“Don’t call me that.”<br/> “I’m sorry, Agent Feldman, but we both know you aren’t straight.” </p><p>Marvin’s mouth opened in a fish gape and he shut it again,” oh my god, I am actually considering cheating on my wife for a case.”</p><p>“See. You wouldn’t even be thinking about it if you weren’t at least bi.”</p><p>“I’m straight! I have a wife and son who I both love…”</p><p>Whizzer put his hand on Marvin’s neck, entangling his fingers in the scruffy, unkempt hair before pulling Marvin close. They were so close that their noses were touching and Marvin’s eyes kept flitting down to Whizzers lips. “Sweetie, we both know you wanna fuck me, so why not do it for something you need?” Whizzer whispered and suddenly their lips clashed together in sweet, passionate kisses that made Marvin feel weak and giddy, whizzer occasionally biting at Marvin’s lower lip to make him moan, before pulling away as If nothing had happened. After Marvin had time to comprehend what had happened, he put out his fingers, gently tracing Whizzers lips.</p><p>“How are your lips so soft?”<br/>“Lush lip scrub.” </p><p>Marvin laughed, his eyes crinkling “why do you want to have sex with me, you’re gorgeous?” He asked, honestly.</p><p>A mischievous look crossed Whizzers face,” what’s the fun in me answering that?” He laughed,” so. What’ll it be?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. A con man’s kiss part 2 - Whizzvin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I like this, forbidden romance and all.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So. what’ll it be?” </p><p>Marvin’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the man leaning against the pillar, a slight look of bemusement ghosting his lips as he stared back.</p><p>“Aww puppy, I’m just messing with you.” Whizzer laughed, ”a meeting if you solve the case, no sex involved.”</p><p>“Puppy?”<br/>“Agent Feldman.”</p><p>Marvin pursed his lips,” alright, I’m going to have to cuff you now Brown.”</p><p>“Usually I wait until the third time we fuck to get kinky, but I think I can make an exception.” He giggled, winking as he put out his arms for the cuffs. The white shirt he was wearing rode up to his forearm and Marvin noticed the white barcode lines on his inner wrists, not wanting to spook him, He ignored them, letting his frown lines become more prominent. He pulled Whizzer up gently, gripping onto Whizzers bicep to steady him and began to walk him out, tiny flutters as he felt the muscles ripple under his hand.</p><p>“Why an art Gallery, why not your mothers house?” Marvin asked curiously, trying to distract himself from the tightening in his chest.</p><p>“Put your hand in my back pocket.” Whizzer replied plainly, Marvin stopping dead in his tracks, deadpanning to him. Whizzer rolled his eyes,” I’m not gonna make you do anything weird.”</p><p>Marvin slowly slid his hand into the pocket, Whizzer maintaining his eye contact, a low growl growing at the bottom of his throat as he felt the slight increase of pressure on his ass… then nothing as Marvin removed his hand, an old piece of a frayed, newspaper in his palm. He unfolded it in one hand, not daring to let go of Whizzer for fear he would lock pick the cuffs. “Is this here?” He asked, straining his eyes at the black and white photo. </p><p>“Yep, my mama wanted to display her art here-“ he gestured to the top of page “- she wrote ‘Whizzers gallery’ on it when I was ten, and her dream sort of became mine.”</p><p>Marvin nodded, walking him out of the building in silence,  Cordelia congratulating him on the arrest. He put his hand on Whizzers head to protect it as he sat him in the backseat of his government issued car, locking the door after him.</p><p>“Look Delia, imma get him back to the jail alone, need to Think some things through.”</p><p>“You know what Agent Feldman, I think that’s a great idea.” Whizzer yelled from the backseat of the car.</p><p>“How the fuck does he do that” Cordelia whispered.<br/>“I can lip read!” Whizzer replied, waving through the open window<br/>Marvin rolled his eyes at the show off, “And pick locks, I need to handcuff him again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>He pulled out of the car park, watching Whizzer in the mirror. “ you were gonna say yes weren’t you.” Whizzer asked quietly, catching Marvin’s eye for a second. </p><p>Marvin became defensive, his face going red with anger,” what? With you? I’m straight.”</p><p>“You’re really adamant about that aren’t you puppy.”<br/>“Stop calling me puppy, I’m older and less attractive than you.”<br/>“But you’re cute. Especially when I make you all flustered.”<br/>“I’m not flustered.”<br/>“Is that why you’re blushing?”</p><p>Marvin clenched his jaw in annoyance, forcing his eyes back onto the the road, his thoughts drifting to how nice his warm bed would be when he got home. His wife trying to stay up for him, only to fall asleep sitting upright, losing her page in the crime thriller she would read. The warm glow of the bedside lamps, his son asleep in his own bed a couple rooms down, the happiness as he dreamt. </p><p>“What’ve got your wife.” Whizzer interrupted his day dreams.<br/>“Sorry?”<br/>“Your wedding anniversary. It’s tomorrow. No way, did you forget?!”</p><p>Marvin glanced around his watch, noticing how close it was to midnight,” shit.”<br/>“Tell her it’s my fault, she’s really nice you know.”<br/>“Of course I know, I married her.”<br/>“Not by choice.”<br/>“How do you know that?”<br/>“Marvin, you think you know everything about me, but It works both ways. Had to know who I was running from.” </p><p>Marvin slowed the car down at the jail, waiting for the guards to swarm around them. He turned in his seat, the leather cold on his ankles as his trousers rode up slightly” what’s the computer chip?”</p><p>“You promise a meeting?”<br/>“I promise.if you’re right”<br/>“Canada’s latest security measure on their hundred dollar bills.” </p><p>With that, he was gone, guards handcuffing him to themselves to stop him escaping, a smile on his face and he watched Marvin through the glass windshield, yelling something that was lost in the wind. </p><p>“ I’m always right.”</p><p>-</p><p>“Calm down love, it’s only a meeting.” Marvin said as Trina set down his bowl of porridge in front of him. She quickly took a seat next to Jason, using a napkin to wipe some of the gloop that had dropped down his chin. “I actually need to thank him as well, pass the sugar?” </p><p>“But I just don’t feel comfortable with you meeting up with a criminal!” She replied, moving to sit next to Marvin. </p><p>“Are you going to eat?” Marvin asked. Trina shrugged, making Marvin feel slightly sick,” anyway, my job is catching criminals, this is safe, will you please pass the sugar?”</p><p>“This is not safe! You are going into a prison!”</p><p>“Cool!” Jason Murmured, both parents looking up to see him drop an entire spoonful down himself.</p><p>Marvin’s jaw was set solid as he huffed slightly at the non existent sugar being handed to him. “In theory, they shouldn’t have weapons in jail. This is non negotiable, I promised him. Where’s the sugar?” </p><p>“You also promised to be there for me yet you still missed our entire wedding anniversary!”</p><p>“I told you!”Marvin felt the twinge of guilt as he lied to her, “I hadn’t caught him yet! Pass the sugar please!”</p><p>She slammed the sugar bowl down in front of him and left, every footstep making the stairs creak above them in her aggression. He was just about done with his breakfast when he heard the knock.</p><p>“It’s open!” He called out, and in came Cordelia. He admired her for a second in her pantsuit, if she wasn’t a lesbian he probably would’ve boned her by now. They were in the same housing in college, often drinking wine coolers on the kitchen floor at midnight discussing girl troubles and studied criminal law together.<br/>“You ready boss.”<br/>“Yeah.”</p><p>He got up, ruffling Jason’s hair and yelling up the stairs to Trina, who did not reply, and followed Cordelia out to the car.</p><p>“Do you think it’s bad missing your anniversary?”<br/>“You missed your anniversary?” <br/>“Yeah.”<br/>“That’s bad.”<br/>“I know.”<br/>“You lied to her about why, didn’t you.” <br/>“Yup.”<br/>“Okay, the secret to having a working marriage, is to actually be truthful to the person you’re married to.”</p><p>“But I didn’t want to tell her that I’d forgot it.”</p><p>Cordelia got in the drivers side, putting her phone into its holder, “who reminded you?”</p><p>“Brown” he laughed and the car started, Cordelia carefully reversing out of the drive.”you drive like such a woman”</p><p>“No you just drive like a man, you prick.”</p><p>They filled the drive with small talk, discussing theories on what Whizzer wanted and how Marvin could make it up to Trina. Their relationship had never been formal, and Marvin liked that, she wasn’t afraid to be honest to the boss. </p><p>“I don’t want you coming in Delia.” <br/>“To the prison? Why not?” She asked as she parked the car.</p><p>“I- Brown and I have a very- odd relationship. It’s something you’d look too deep into.” </p><p>“Fine.” She scoffed, unbuckling her seat belt,” but you cannot tell me off for flirting with that cute guard over there.” She pointed towards the entrance and Marvin followed her arm. </p><p>“You, misses, are married, plus she’s not your type.” </p><p>“It makes Charlotte jealous, then we have fucking hot sex. who cares if she’s my type of not, at the end of the day, my wife is the only person I need.” She began to walk with purpose to the guard, before turning around a couple of steps later,”how long did you say you’d be?”</p><p>“Not sure.” Marvin followed Cordelia to the entrance where he flashed his badge. The distinct buzz of the door let him through the gate as he turned to sneak one last glance at his partner, leaning against the fence, throwing her head back in fake laughter, being overly touchy.</p><p>He followed another guard through the winding prison until they reached the private visiting block, reserved for lawyers and federal agents. Suddenly he saw him through the plastic window on the door, Whizzer brown leaning back in his bolted down chair, legs up on the table as he stared at his outstretched arms. Marvin took a deep breath, striding into the room and Whizzer pulled his arms across his chest.</p><p>“You were right.” Marvin said as he sat opposite, for the first time in his life admitting someone else was better than him at something.</p><p>“I told you, I’m always right.”</p><p>There was a second of silence as the pair tried to figure each other out.</p><p>“So, Whizzer Brown. Why am I here?”</p><p>Whizzer cocked his head to the side and he blinked harshly as he heard his full name. </p><p>“I want to get out of here.”<br/>“You only had 2 weeks, you’re now back to three years. There’s nothing I can do!” Marvin replied getting up and turning to the door, signalling the guard.</p><p>“CI. Criminal informant.” Whizzer interjected desperately, breaking his usually composed Demeanour.</p><p>Marvin turned quickly,” I would never trust you enough to let you out.”</p><p>“Tracking anklet. The latest ones have accuracy of up to a block, you can tell almost exactly where I am from miles away.” He slipped a piece of research across the table, Marvin quickly glancing over it.</p><p>“What happens if you slip it, or cut it?”</p><p>Whizzer pointed to a paragraph halfway down the page. “I can’t, they’re on their own server, makes them almost impossible to hack, and if you cut them, it sets of an alarm on the tracker.”</p><p>“Why do I need you?”</p><p>Whizzer swung his legs back onto the floor and leant down on his elbows, slightly wincing as Marvin sat back down opposite him. “Because you said ‘need’ rather than ‘want’.” </p><p>“Pardon?”</p><p>“You need me. You don’t want me, you need me. I was right about the computer chip, what else could I be right about?”</p><p>Marvin screwed his eyes shut as he tried to make a decision,” How did you know what it was exactly, down to the precise bill?”</p><p>“We run in different circles.”</p><p>“But that was only one case. How do I know if I can trust you to do this on every case.”</p><p>“Because, puppy, I am an alleged art thief and con artist. I can tell you exactly where to get a perfect fake ID, how to break into the MOMA, how to forge a signature, or a van goh piece, or a vintage stamp…” He reached out to touch Marvin’s hand, quickly pulling it back as he realised what he was doing. His voice dropped naturally, almost to a whisper “I can help you.” </p><p>To an outsider, those four words were simple, but Marvin could feel Whizzer reach into his soul and tell him exactly what he needed to do to feel again. He stared at Whizzer, the strands of hair that fell into his eyes, the tiny bumps on his chin from where he dried shaved off his beard to help him escape, and whizzer just stared back. </p><p>“I don’t need you.” Was all he was able to muscle out, pulling back into reality.</p><p>“Say it again, this time convince me.”</p><p>“I- I don’t…” Whizzer moved fast, quickly lunging forward, his face less than a centimetre away from Marvin’s and he softly kissed him, hands holding Marvin’s down tight on the desk. Then there were the yells of the guards, Marvin completely out of it as Whizzer was hauled out of the door, not phased at all, the bored look coming back. </p><p>Marvin raced after him, a guard pushing him back as he yelled down the corridor, “I’m in.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. “I love you”- whizzvin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this is kinda sad</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Marvin would freak out every time he woke up, eyes flashing open as he sat up, hands flustering as he reached out for Whizzers. </p>
<p>The fingers would close slowly around his own and Marvin would flinch. Not because of the hand finding his, but because the fingers felt as though they were a strangers, now coarse and cold compared to the warmth and softness of them before- before he got diagnosed with AIDS. </p>
<p>Now Marvin's every mornings were taken over by the panic of checking on Whizzer. The nurses would come in, bustling around the room, opening curtains and checking on Whizzers vitals, while he just stared into marvin's eyes, trying to smile. </p>
<p>He was weak, some days he could sit up, other days he couldn't even open his eyes, trying to move his fingers to curl them around Marvin's. </p>
<p>He wouldn't talk, just listen, and Marvin was scared that he would forget what Whizzers voice sounded like, asking him questions to coax words out of him. Marvin would just sit by his side all day, only leaving to get coffee, he too was getting skinny, losing weight and looking paler day by day, although he blamed it on the lack of vitamin C and the bountiful amount of stress. But one day Charlotte cornered him, explaining how the virus spread, explaining how he may have it too.  </p>
<p>Then she went home to her girlfriend and cried in her arms, whilst Marvin plastered a smile on his face and went back into the hospital room to stay the night, Whizzer as the big spoon and only once he was asleep, Marvin started sobbing into his hand. The dread of what was to come, draining the blood from his face, numbing him from the inside out as he watched what the virus had done to the love of his life, how he had changed from the intelligent, sexual man to a shell, so broken that he was almost unrecognisable.</p>
<p>Marvin was fired once his bosses found out he was gay. After his divorce he didn't particularly hide his sexuality, not minding if people stared at him and Whizzer kissing in the gym changing rooms, or the homophobic comments yelled at them on the street if they held hands. He didn't care, he wanted to spend all of his time he had left with Whizzer, he gave up, knowing he wouldn't be alive for long. They both knew how it was going to turn out, and whizzer was counting down the days. </p>
<p>Marvin would make the bed around Whizzer, telling him about Jason's latest chess match at school, or how he didn't drop the bat in baseball, and how Cordelia cooked something that was slightly edible for once, and Whizzer just smiled. </p>
<p>He saved his words for Jason's Bar Mitzvah, pretending he was back to normal around the child, speaking like usual, his normal banter with Marvin, picking at the ugly patterned tie he wore and scoffing at it, and for a moment, Marvin had the tiniest sliver of hope that maybe everything will be alright. Whizzer stole a moment from Trina when no one was watching. </p>
<p>"Promise me you'll keep him safe."<br/>"What?"</p>
<p>His face changed instantly to one that was so serious as he whispered into her ear. </p>
<p>"You need to look after him, I can't hold on much longer." </p>
<p>Then he smiled at her, complementing the dress she was wearing and almost fell into Marvin's arms, watching his son become a man, crying with happiness as he realised how Jason did it all for him, how Jason loved Whizzer the same amount as Whizzer loved him. He remembered the first time Jason called him Dad, it was normal, probably an accident, Whizzer giving him a plate of snacks as his head was buried in his homework, "thanks Dad." Whizzer stopped dead in his tracks and just stared, expecting him to take it back, but he didn't change it. Whizzer went into their kitchen and cried without meaning to, Marvin quickly asking him what was wrong. </p>
<p>"He called me dad."<br/>"Oh, do you not like it?"<br/>"No I love it."</p>
<p>From then on, he would often switch between 'Whizzer' and 'Dad' and finally, Whizzer felt as though he was part of a family who loved him. Finally he felt safe. </p>
<p>He keeled forward at the end of the Bar Mitzvah, reaching out for Jason as he did, the tears were so close to falling down his face as he saw his son, now a man. </p>
<p>"Thank you." He whispered so that only Jason could hear, he could see the scared look on his face. Marvin caught him as he fell, Mendel helping to pick him up as Charlotte took over, leading him out of the room to somewhere more private. She looked un phased to the group, but whispered in Marvin's ear "press the emergency button. Quick!"</p>
<p>Whizzer was instantly surrounded by people he didn't know, shaking and weak, coughing blood slightly as he was laid on a hospital bed, machines attached to him. He felt everything slip away, but forced himself to stay awake so he could see Marvin one last time. </p>
<p>"I'm here, I'm here."<br/>"Marvin?"</p>
<p>His vision was clouded, but he could see the hazy figure leaning over him, reaching for his face to gently brush away the hair.</p>
<p>"Yes. I love you so much."<br/>"Marvin, I'm scared." </p>
<p>Whizzer started to cry, for the first time since he got taken into the hospital and it terrified Marvin, quickly holding his hand and stroking his knuckles the way he used to love it after sex.</p>
<p>"Me too."<br/>"I love you, I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die." </p>
<p>It was almost a chant, his semi conscious mind and drugs not able to control what he was saying in the delirious tears and fighting. All Marvin could do was stay strong, hold Whizzers hand and try to calm him before the inevitable. </p>
<p>"I love you Whizzer."<br/>"I love you-"</p>
<p>He relaxed finally, after his year long fight, and Marvin just sat there as the grip on his hand loosened and his heart cracked and fell apart, silent tears falling down his face. </p>
<p>"I love you too." He whispered softly before pressing a kiss on whizzers still warm lips, "I'll see you soon."</p>
<p>He got up quietly and punched the wall, throwing off his Kippah and yelling at Trina before he broke down in her arms, body wracked with sobs. </p>
<p>Finally he stopped crying long enough to ask her...</p>
<p>"How do I tell Jason that I'm going to be gone soon too?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m sorry 😐</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Crazy fast food restaurant AU thing I’m not really sure what this could be called.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As the title says, I have no bloomin clue what to call this, but that makes the title ✨catchy✨ and DiFferEnt. I kinda love this though. </p><p>Also we are not questioning why Marvin is leaving Jason with a stranger, sozzers</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There are around 120 anonymous Michelin restaurant inspectors around the world. They spend 3 out of every 4 weeks on the road, and must vacate a region for 10 years if they think a restaurant suspects their identity.</p><p>That's what Whizzer was, an anonymous Michelin restaurant inspector. Travelling the world, eating from incredible restaurant and staying in Beautiful hotels, trying to find the best restaurants in open air markets on the continent. It meant that he had exquisite taste, was well travelled, but never ended up having enough time for a relationship. Back when he was in college, he would've thought this would be his ideal life, the travelling, the parties the food, the endless string of lovers... but he knew he was growing up, he knew he needed something more permanent.</p><p>So he went back to America, visiting family and friends until he ended up in a restaurant in New York City. A burger joint, greasy fries and fatty burgers. Nothing particularly good, ordering a coffee at eleven pm and staring out onto the rainy street, watching the traffic and the bright yellow cabs pile up.</p><p>"Can I sit here?"</p><p>Whizzer turned to face a man in soaking wet suit, a small child tugging on the jacket sleeve.</p><p>"Sure." He dumped the burger back on the plate and slid his chair away from the other two, losing his appetite as the child picked at his nose. The man picked the child up and undid the bright yellow raincoat that made whizzer feel like he was in IT, then sat him down on the chair.</p><p>"Look Jason, don't tell mummy we're eating fast food, and don't tell her that I left you with a stranger while I went to dry off, okay?"</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>"I'm sorry to ask you this, but please don't let him wander off." The man addressed Whizzer who just shrugged, pushing his plate towards the child. Jason watched his dad walk awake, waving intensely, his whole hand moving as though he was drunk, unable to control it. Then he turned back to Whizzer.</p><p>"What's your name?"<br/>"Whizzer."<br/>"I like that. It's weird and cool."</p><p>The child picked up the burger, trying to stuff it all into his mouth, half of it falling out as Whizzer watched, slightly disgusted, slightly in awe of the child. He picked up the hot coffee, taking a sip, knowing he would be travelling soon, and needed something to take the edge off.</p><p>"Are you my daddy's boyfriend?"</p><p>Whizzer spat out the coffee, "what?"</p><p>"I heard my mummy yelling at my daddy because he likes dick. I don't know what that means."</p><p>"Umm, I'm not sure you're meant to say that? Uh no no... word?" Whizzer floundered, not sure what he was meant to say.</p><p>The man quickly strode back to the table "Thank you so much...uh"</p><p>"Brown, Whizzer Brown."</p><p>Marvin narrowed his eyes, "do you work at a federal agency?"</p><p>"What makes you say that?"</p><p>"You watch rather than listen, you carry yourself with grace, and you seem to be very observant and guarded. Are you FBI?"</p><p>Whizzer stared down at his coffee, this guy was cute, and Whizzer liked to play pretend sometimes. The man had a wife so wouldn't get too clingy, and his Son had  outed him as gay...</p><p>"Sure am, what about you?"<br/>"FBI also, white collar division. Agent Marvin Feldman."</p><p>Marvin stuck out his hand to shake Whizzer's.</p><p>"Ah, I'm in art crimes." Whizzer lied through his bright shining teeth as he smiled.</p><p>Marvin's phone ringing broke the undressing of each other as they stared.</p><p>"Will you excuse me, this is work."</p><p>Whizzer nodded and went back to watching Jason eat, "so, have you met any of your Daddy's boyfriends?" He asked, curiously.</p><p>"I don't think I'm meant to know, I just had a bad dream and I woke up to go downstairs and mummy was shouting and I felt sad."</p><p>Whizzer smiled sympathetically and turned back to the window, watching people hurry through the streets. Coming from a small city, New York felt like a whole new country to him, in a single minute, everything could change. Someone with fame and fortune could instantly be shunned away by society, people get together and are broken up the next second, restaurants are open then shut, going in and out of fashion as fast as clothes.</p><p>"Okay, Jason, we're going home."<br/>"But I like Whizzer."<br/>"We're leaving, right now."</p><p>The child dug his feet into the floor as Marvin took a hold of his hand and began to wail loudly, having a temper tantrum on the floor, adding to the loud clangs of the open kitchen behind him, people started staring and scoffing at the kid.</p><p>"Look Whizzer, you're an agent, it's eleven at night, I haven't slept in thirty six hours, there's a big 'thing' going on at work, and I need to get this kid off of the floor. Will you come home with me?"</p><p>"Sure, I have a flight in a couple hours and I wasn't planning on sleeping." It wasn't what Whizzer would do usually, but there was something about this man. Scruffy, looking as though he hadn't slept in weeks, but a rugged, raw handsomeness about him.</p><p>He followed Marvin out to a cab that he had hailed, and Jason began to lean on him as he fell asleep.</p><p>"I'm so sorry I had to ask you for this." Marvin whispered once Jason had finally fallen asleep.</p><p>"It's fine, really. He's cute."<br/>"He's a pain in the ass but I love him." <br/>"What was your work thing about?"<br/>"I need to get to a safe house."<br/>"What?"</p><p>Whizzers interest was officially peaked</p><p>"My cover was blown on my latest case, I have to pack up and get out tonight, but I'm so close to cracking it."</p><p>Whizzer cocked an eyebrow, dancing his fingers up onto Marvin's leg, placing his hand on his upper thigh.<br/>"I'm always on the road, you can come with me, keep working the case."</p><p>"These are bad people, connections with the mafia." He shifted in his seat, Whizzers hand moving higher. "They'll be after us-"</p><p>"Who cares-" he leant in close to Marvin's face, making the short mans breath catch in his throat.  "I always buy two plane tickets for leg room, I'm going to Italy."</p><p>"Italy? For what case." Whizzers eyes widened as he remembered his lie.</p><p>" I'm identifying some stolen art." He liked this version of himself, smart and confident. "Then I have a date in India."</p><p>"I guess it's better than being locked in a safe house like a prison. I'm in." He smiled, leaning in to kiss Whizzer. Suddenly Jason woke up and Marvin pulled back so fast he was almost a blur of motion. "Hey kid."</p><p>"Daddy, how long until we're home."<br/>"Not too long Jason." He replied, kissing the top of his head and inhaling the strong scent of his child, thinking of how much he'll miss him.</p><p>The cab pulled up outside Marvin's house and whizzer was shocked to see the door open almost immediately by a woman in a nightgown, curlers in her hair. Marvin helped Jason out of the car and Whizzer waited inside, watching the scene from the dark window. He could see the bitter disappointment on the woman's face as she scolded Marvin for being out so late with the child, then she pointed to Whizzer and he felt his skin crawl at the hatred in her voice as she asked "who is that? Another slut?".</p><p>Marvin beckoned to Whizzer and he cautiously got out of the car, giving the woman a polite nod as he introduced himself.</p><p>"So you work with my husband?" Trina sneered.</p><p>"Umm sort of." Whizzer replied, "I'm sorry, I really don't want to intrude in your home life."</p><p>"Well you're already balls deep in it aren't you." Trina jeered, and Whizzer knew that she didn't mean that in a work way.</p><p>"Can Whizzer take me to bed please?" Jason whined in Trina's arms and she just sighed, handing him over to Whizzer reluctantly, giving him the death stare as he put Jason on his hip, carrying him where he pointed.</p><p>"I'm leaving tonight, my cover was blown."</p><p>"How long." Trina finally asked </p><p>"I don't know. I'll be in a safe house, but it's better if you don't visit, you'll be in danger. It's the mafia this time, they have people everywhere."</p><p>"Jason's going to be heartbroken."<br/>"I'll see if I can call."</p><p>-</p><p>That was a month ago.</p><p>Whizzer and Marvin had taken up residence in a tiny village in the Italian alps until their cover was blown, Whizzer quickly whisking them off to Capri. He loved the aesthetic of the cliffs over looking the narrow rocky beaches and brilliant blue oceans. In Europe they were free to be who they wanted to be, Marvin not fearing that his wife would find out who he was sleeping with or what he was working on.</p><p>They would have sex, a lot. Passionate, rough, a lot of the time in public like people have in their twenties, which Marvin had missed, considering his wife was pregnant almost straight out of college. Whizzer would force Marvin out to a restaurant every night, unknown to Marvin, doing his actual job, a tiny note pad at the table which he would rate the food, service, wine, everything.</p><p>They were in a tiny coffee shop along a strand, a gorgeous little thing, narrow and long, glass ceiling where you could see the ivy climbing up from the exposed brick walls. Whizzer had his morning tea, and a piece of cake, Marvin jittering his leg up and down as Whizzer had spoken in fluent Italian, scared their cover would be blown again.</p><p>"Calm down Bebe." Whizzer had said in a faux Italian accent, "no one will know." Trailing a finger over marvin's lips. Marvin just watched the man, seeing him stick out his pinky finger as he drank his tea, delicately placing it back down on the saucer, and returning it to the high table they were sat around.</p><p>But Marvin kept his hand on his gun.</p><p>It was his saving grace.</p><p>As Whizzer went to the bar, paying for the bill they came in. He didn't notice at first, but Marvin did, thick Chicago accents as they asked a waitress something. Whizzer was busy flirting with the girl at the counter, pointing out the coffee line ghosting her lips and wiping it away.</p><p>One word out of place.</p><p>Whizzer calling out for "Marv" to ask if he had any change for a tip, and suddenly guns were out, shooting to the sky, cracking the glass ceiling as Whizzer kicked himself, diving over the counter, pushing down the girl into the corner, asking her to stay safe. He pulled out his petite notebook and quickly wrote down his notes of the meal and counted how many shots were fired without meaning to. After the first clip was used, he leapt over the counter, high kicking the gun out of the leaders hand.</p><p>"I was trained in Karate." He smirked as he knocked the guy out.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. A conman’s kiss part 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A conman’s kiss part 3</p><p>“This is what they’re giving me?” Whizzer raised his eyebrow as Marvin handed him a shirt and a pair of slacks. </p><p>“Hey!” Marvin started, a hurt look on his face, “the shirt’s mine.” In truth, he made sure to give Whizzer one of his shirts rather than the one the prison provides. It was not the right size. Too tight, gave Marvin something he could stare at. Same with the slacks. Too tight, gave him something to stare at. </p><p>He watched whizzer take off his shirt, and almost started to drool as he saw his abs, defined and lean. “What is this?” Whizzer complained as he checked the shirt label, “wash and wear!?” He looked up at Marvin, ”were you watching me puppy?” He smirked.</p><p>“What! No.” Marvin exclaimed,” Agent Feldman.”</p><p>“Okay, Agent Feldman-“ he put on the shirt, leaving it unbuttoned as he pulled down the orange pants, stepping into the black suit trousers, “now that we’re… partners… what can I call you?”</p><p>“We are not ‘partners’-“ Marvin replied irritated, “you are my criminal informant. Keep it to Agent Feldman.” </p><p>“How about Marvin?” Whizzer purred as he buttoned up his shirt, maintaining eye contact with him. </p><p>“No. Not happening.” <br/>“Marvin.” Whizzer teased.</p><p>Marvin turned and walked out of the prison, and Whizzer followed him, feeling the anticipation of fresh air that wasn’t guarded by tall electric fences capable of killing him. He eagerly stepped closer and closer to the entrance, a bright smile on his face and suddenly Marvin turned around and Whizzer stopped, almost walking into him. </p><p>“Leg.” Marvin said, loudly.<br/>“What?”</p><p>Marvin pulled out a tracking anklet from his pocket, “leg.” Whizzer rolled his eyes, kicking his leg up into the air and landing it gently on Marvin’s shoulder. “What the fuck, how are you this flexible and this extra!” </p><p>“Used to be a dancer, I like to keep limber, makes sex fun.” He winked as Marvin clasped the anklet around his ankle. </p><p>“Have you been having much sex in here?” Marvin asked curiously, he didn’t know how much of a gay population there was in jail other than the obvious ‘dropping the soap’ jokes.</p><p>“Haven’t had sex 3 years. Didn’t want to be a bitch.” </p><p>“A bitch?”<br/>“Well I like a dick in my ass, people take that as weakness even though it hurts like a motherfucker.”</p><p>“Oh.” Marvin blushed, pushing Whizzers leg off of him and turning around to avoid his stare. He quickly walked out and finally whizzer felt his freedom wash over him like a wave. Happy, content except for the pressure holding his ankle in place and the scratchy, tight shirt. </p><p>“So Marvin, where are we going!”</p><p>“Agent Feldman. We’re going to your lodgings.”</p><p>“Why do you sometimes speak like an eighteenth century English man?”</p><p>Marvin didn’t reply, stalking to his car and getting in, “get in.”</p><p>“Oh Marv, you had the perfect chance to quote mean girls-“ Whizzer sighed as he followed “- yet you chose not to.” </p><p>Whizzer spent most of the drive with his head out of the window like a dog, and they finally pulled up outside one of the ugliest buildings he had ever seen. </p><p>“This is the centre of your radius.” Marvin began, strutting inside as he smiled at how horrible it was. He quickly stood by the front desk, hitting the bell as Whizzer stared at the motel. Black mould creeping up the vomit coloured walls, narrow corridors with flickering lights, people standing in doorways, their eyeliner smudged down their face, dead eyed, staring at him as though he was another slab of meat. Finally a burly man entered from behind a bead curtain. “Hi, I’m Marvin Feldman, we spoke on the phone earlier. I’ve got a room booked.”</p><p>The man stood emotionless, then turned, taking a set of keys off of a hook, handing them over to Marvin. He looked down at the tiny shred of tree trunk that had the number 14 written on it, and set off down the hallway, whizzer trailing very quickly behind as he received whistles and Catcalls. Marvin quickly stopped to unlock his door and Whizzer whispered urgently in his ear. </p><p>“Um Agent Feldman, I don’t think I can stay here.” <br/>“Look-“ Marvin looked up, leaving the key in the lock, “- it costs $300 a month to house you in a federal jail, so it costs $300 out here. If you find somewhere nicer within that price range and your 1 mile radius, then you can happily stay there!” </p><p>“I have a one mile radius?” <br/>“Get in there.” Marvin whisper shouted, pushing Whizzer inside as he heard a mans voice yell out “fags” down the hall. He pursed his lips as he followed Whizzer into the room. </p><p>“Jesus Christ!” Whizzer exclaimed as he saw the room. One smaller that single bed which had a bony hairless cat or dog, he wasn’t sure which, curled up in the centre, “does that thing live here?” He asked as he stared at the windowless, dingy, dusty room, coughing slightly as he sat on the bed, dust flying up everywhere. “Yeah, this is not good, maybe I should’ve stayed in prison.”</p><p>Marvin rolled his eyes at how dramatic Whizzer was being, fumbling through his pockets and taking out a $50 note. “Here. This is for clothes.” </p><p>“I’m sorry, but how am I meant to buy anything with this?”</p><p>“Hey, this is my own money, I took pity on you when the people in the big house said no, go thrifting, there’s a thrift shop a block away.It’s in style at the moment. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 7 to take you to the office.”</p><p>“Bye marv.”</p><p>Marvin pursed his lips but didn’t correct him “Goodbye Whizzer.”</p><p>Whizzer sat on the bed for a moment, thinking as he stared at the cat, disassociating. He was broken from the trance by an explosion of anger the room next to him, the paper thin walls letting him hear everything as a couple fought. Suddenly the screams of anger turned into moaning and he decided that was enough for him, getting up and quickly leaving the room, locking the door behind him as he blocked out the harassment that followed. </p><p>When the sun hit Whizzers face he suddenly felt as though he was meant to be there, it didn’t matter if he was shackled, he was able to do what he wanted without fear of being murdered in his cell. He followed where Marvin had told him, and came across a dusty old vintage shop, scoffing, “trust that klutz to call this a thrift shop.” He quickly went in, smelling the musty, wood smell that clung to antique furniture, and gazed at the suits, trying to keep himself away, but quickly giving in, running his fingers over the expensive fabrics, each one costing at least double the amount he had. He sighed as he fiddled with them, and heard the tingle of a visitor, listening in to the conversation ever so slightly. </p><p>“Hello there, I have some things I’d like to donate.” She spoke quietly to the lady at the counter</p><p>Whizzer sidled towards her, gasping as he picked up a hat. “ is this a Borsalino?” He exclaimed as he picked it up.</p><p>“Yes, belonged to my Dad, he passed on recently.” </p><p>“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He felt the suits she had dropped onto the counter, “wow, these are gorgeous.”</p><p>“You can have them if you want, you need them more than I do.”</p><p>“That is so kind of you. What’s your name?”<br/>“I’m Charlotte.” She put out her hand for a handshake and he gently took it, kissing the top of it, causing her to blush. </p><p>“Whizzer Brown.” He said smoothly, “may I say, you are a classy lady with excellent taste.”</p><p>Her blush deepened, “thank you. I’m actually a doctor, I just never have time to go out after my shifts, and my apartment gets quite lonely.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, “I’m sorry, I’m blabbering.”</p><p>A catlike smile spread over Whizzers face as he thought of a plan in his head. “No please, continue.”</p><p>-</p><p>Marvin had a headache. It was seven Am, he had been up half the night with Jason crying and he was not in a good mood. He parked up his car and went inside the motel, going to the empty front desk, ringing the bell. After no one came, he impatiently began to ring the bell again, over and over and over until finally the curtain parted and the same burly man from the night before entered. </p><p>“Hi, I’m here to pick up the man I dropped off yesterday.” He was met by a blank face, “the man in room 14.” Still blank, “tall, about 6”2, lean, dancers legs, perfect hair, attractive, brown eyes…” the man handed him a note and Marvin stared at him. “Um thank you I guess?” </p><p>He unfolded the piece of paper, reading the note. </p><p>‘I did what you said. Here’s my new address.’ </p><p>His eyes opened wide as he recognised the address, “that sneaky son of a bitch.”</p><p>-</p><p>The butler, or as he preferred to be known, the house manager, showed Marvin up to the roof of the large house, and Marvin gasped at the view of the whole city. </p><p>“Marvin.”</p><p>“How the fuck did you manage this?” He asked, spinning around to see Whizzer sitting on patio furniture, expensive suit, expensive hat, expensive sunglasses, expensive coffee and homemade breakfast, holding a newspaper. </p><p>“I did what you said, I went to the vintage shop.”<br/>“I said thrift shop”<br/>“Well, I went the wrong way, and bumped into-“</p><p>“Marvin! How wonderful to see you!”</p><p>Marvin sighed, turning around to see Charlotte, “Dr Charlotte, how lovely to see you again. I see you’ve met my Criminal informant.” He said, stressing the word Criminal, “oh, did he not tell you he was a criminal?” He feigned innocence, “Because you know he’s legally required too.”</p><p>“Actually he did, And I don’t mind, my father ran in those circles.” </p><p>Marvin clenched his jaw. “Where is your wife?”</p><p>“Cordelia?”</p><p>“Plot twist!” Whizzer said from his seat, staring over the top of his sunglasses.</p><p>“Well, she’s was out late working a case, but this is my house, so I will not let her kick Whizzer out.”</p><p>“Thank you Charlotte, Marvin, I think we should head to work.” Whizzer interrupted, folding his newspaper and draining the last of his coffee.</p><p>“Ooh, you little fucker.” Marvin exclaimed as Whizzer got up to sidle past him, Marvin grabbing his wrists. “Charlotte, will you give us a second?”</p><p>“Of course Marvin.” </p><p>Marvin’s grip on Whizzer’s wrists was tight, so tight that he had to bite the inside of his lip to stop himself moaning. He was horny, extremely horny. “Look Whizzer, I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to get back in line.”</p><p>“Sorry Marv, are you jealous?” He asked, hoping to make him angry,</p><p>“Agent Goddamn Feldman to you.” The grip on Whizzers wrists tightened, “you know perfectly well that I am, I uphold the law and you break it, get out of prison and still end up being in a nicer house, with nicer clothes, and nicer coffee.”</p><p>Whizzer wriggled his wrists out of Marvin’s grip, turning  the tables as he held Marvin’s wrists, pressing down with much more force, voice low, sexy and dangerous “Marvin, do not test me.” He pulled him closer, Marvin trying to escape his grip, “because I will do something that ruins your life.” Suddenly he let go of Marvin’s wrists, voice returning to its normal bubbly nature, “come on Agent Feldman, we’ve got a job to do.” Leaving Marvin stunned, and hard.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. High school kind of AU thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This has a highly disturbing ending so there are Trigger Warnings. DO NOT READ IF YOU DO NOT FEEL COMFORTABLE DOING SO. I’m sorry it took a dark turn, I was just feeling very overwhelmed by a lot of things on social media at the moment.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The glimpses in the hallways were enough for Marvin, trying not to seem creepy as his eyes followed Whizzer Brown. He would see him often, watch him laugh with his friend by a locker, or see an older man pick him up in a truck, his troubles returned with a kiss. Sometimes his stares were rewarded, Whizzer catching his eye and smirking, forcing Marvin to look away in an instant, but it was the attention he craved from him. The attention he needed. </p><p>The whole school knew of Whizzer Brown, coming up in conversation with friends at least once a week. Whizzer was known for his amount of sexual partners, known for breaking up couples and starting fires that others couldn’t put out. He looked gorgeous doing it, tall, confident in his own skin, but always ready for a fight. </p><p>Everyday, a new rumour was being strung about him, “Whizzer Brown? I heard he had sex with a teacher!” Or “did you hear? lily and Henry broke up! bet it had something to do with Whizzer.” </p><p>A new man a week, alternating with his favourites. But every day, Marvin would watch him. See the pick up truck roll up, Whizzer roll his eyes, flick his cigarette away and reluctantly get into it, the man instantly clamping his hand around Whizzers thigh as he shifts uncomfortably, giving him a tiny peck. Something about it sent a chill down Marvin’s spine, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and even if he did, he would be invisible to Whizzer Brown anyway.</p><p>That’s why it was odd when he was sat in the school library one day, retyping an essay out aggressively, when none other than Whizzer Brown sat opposite him.</p><p>“I hear you need some help.” Whizzer had a quiet voice that was enchanting, causing Marvin to widen his eyes.</p><p>“Sorry?” he had basically just been focusing on the way Whizzers shirt clung to his chest.</p><p>“Oh, well I volunteer to tutor so I get more free periods. I chose you Marvin, I see you stare, quite a lot more than others in fact.” He said, reaching over and closing Marvin’s laptop. </p><p>“You tutor… me?”</p><p>“I’ve got a 4.3 GPA, why do you say it like… that?” Whizzer asked, a grimace on his face.</p><p>“I just… you…” Marvin flushed bright red. “I am not going to be one of your ‘conquests’” he managed to spit out, drawing bunny ears in the air. </p><p>“Why? is it because you’re straight, because that’s never been an issue before.” He winked getting up to leave, “send me a text telling me when you’re gonna pick me up, and please wear something nicer than-“ he waved his finger at Marvin “- that.” He strutted off, through the turnstiles.</p><p>“Um, I don’t have your number?” Marvin called out after him. </p><p>“Find it.” </p><p>He was met by a loud shush from the librarian and Whizzer Brown, the icon that he was, stuck up his middle finger, not looking back. </p><p>Marvin searched for his number, asking the few friends he had, and eventually decided to pluck up the courage to speak to Whizzer Brown’s closest friend. A tall French boy called Lafayette, known to be another one of Whizzers so called fuck buddies. He was 6”4 and Marvin felt like an ant walking up to him, scared of being stomped on.</p><p>“Hi, I’m Marvin… not that it matters, can you give me Whizzers number please.” He stammered, words tripping over each other in an attempt to leave his mouth as fast as possible.</p><p>“Hmmm…” the boy replied, closing his locker and looking down at Marvin, tying up his thick kinky hair, “whizzer said you’d try to get it.” Marvin smiled sweetly, or at least it felt sweet, “oh fuck, that face is scary. Gimme your phone.” </p><p>He didn’t know whether to be insulted or happy, handing Lafayette his phone and the number being typed in quickly. </p><p>“You hurt him… I will shit up your ass.” <br/>“That seems complicated.” Lafayette took a step towards him and Marvin ran, realising that Lafayette’s idiom had probably been lost in translation. </p><p>He texted Whizzer when he got home, anxious for the reply. Whizzer Brown was the reason he knew he was gay, and now he was studying with him, he was suggestive, and utterly fuckable. </p><p>His phone beeped and he leapt up to read it, the words blurry as he put back on his glasses again. </p><p>“You know when I ask straight people how they know they’re straight they never really answer, I just want someone one day to tell me that they gave someone a blow job in a McDonald’s car park and 10/10 would not recommend, now they’re positive they’re straight.” </p><p>“I’m sorry, is that a yes for Saturday?”</p><p>“Sure. Pick me up and take me to yours, I wanna see what your bedroom is like.”</p><p>Marvin felt the butterflies tingle in his stomach and grow as he thought of Whizzer Brown in his bedroom. Then he glanced at it and realised he was in big trouble, clothes strewn everywhere, books on every surface, old cartons of take out. Quickly, he got to work, cleaning and tidying.</p><p>Saturday morning came too slowly, as though time was working against him. Marvin got in his crappy car, trying to start it up three times before he was finally able to switch it into drive. He turned on google maps as he drove. He kept going further and further out of town, until finally he made to a set of flats, pulling up outside. He didn’t see anything, just waited, and suddenly Whizzer was out of the closest one, running full pelt towards him. </p><p>“Okay, drive!”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Fuck Marvin, get this car in gear and get out of here!” Whizzer Brown yelled as he turned around, seeing a figure lumbering towards them, “shit, we’re not gonna make it.”</p><p>Marvin quickly managed to get the car in drive and did a 180, driving back in the direction of his house as Whizzer took a deep breath in, returning his voice to his normal volume. </p><p>“What the fuck was that?!” Marvin asked as he took frequent looks in the rear view mirror. </p><p>“That was my boyfriend. I was meant to be filming stuff and didn’t want to, although I never really want to.”</p><p>“Filming… stuff…?” Marvin repeated curiously.</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>Marvin scoffed “How can you not know?” </p><p>“I don’t know? sex I guess, I’m usually unconscious, but I switched the drinks today.” </p><p>“Holy shit! What the hell Whizzer?”</p><p>“What? Isn’t that normal?”<br/>“What the actual fuck! No that is not normal! Shit I need to get you to a police station.”</p><p>“No.” Whizzers voice was firm, “I love him. It’s okay.”</p><p>Marvin decided just to drive, taking frequent scared looks at Whizzer. “Does he hurt you.” </p><p>“I don’t remember.”<br/>“Do you have unexplained bruises?”</p><p>“Yes, on my ass, and my neck, and my back has these lash marks.”</p><p>“Fuck. How long has this been happening?”</p><p>“We got together when I was thirteen.”</p><p>“Holy fucking shit.” Marvin took a short cut, driving faster and faster until he reached the nearest police precinct. “Hey, I live above here, let’s go inside.”</p><p>He coerced Whizzer into giving a statement.</p><p>Some how the whole school got wind of what was happening.</p><p>A week later the statement was released saying how Whizzer Brown had sadly taken his own life. </p><p>His rapist went to the funeral, standing next to some of Whizzers best friends or otherwise known as Fuck buddies.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. it's the twenties, yabbah dabbah, ooh the twenties part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>alright people, if you need translations for the slang, hmu in the comments, also if there is anything you want to request, I AM HAPPY TO WRITE IT!!! Any way, none of the views in this are mine, they are just true of the time. I got this idea last night, so it isn't very thought through (sozzers)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The man took a look into the mirrored window in the small room, fixing his hair in the reflection. He rolled his eyes, checking his pocket watch and looked straight into the mirror again, as though he could see through it to the other side, then he stuck his middle finger up.</p><p>They always move it along faster if he’s a pain in the ass.</p><p>Surely enough, the man he only knows as ‘the detective who’s always angry’ strode in. He was bad with names.</p><p>“Hullo.” ‘the detective who’s always angry’ started.</p><p>He smiled innocently, “hullo detective, why am I here?” he batted his eyelashes, leaning his elbows on the table, slick with someone’s blood.</p><p>“You know exactly why you are here, Mr Brown.”</p><p>“you can call me Whizzer, detective.” Whizzer replied, leaning slightly further forward, “Mr Brown is my father.” He smiled, dead eyed at ‘the detective who’s always angry’.</p><p>“well then, Whizzer,” ‘the detective who’s always angry’ placed an open file in front of him and whizzer took it in his hands, dropping his spectacles down onto the bridge of his nose as he stared at the photos. “Do you know this woman?”</p><p>Whizzer weighed his options as he silently stroked the photograph. It was grainy, black and white, but he could tell exactly who it was. “no detective, although I think I have seen her around.” He lied, flashing his pearly whites, “am I free to leave?”</p><p>“Are you not curious as to who she is?” ‘The detective who’s always angry’ didn’t seem very angry today, perhaps he had sexual intercourse, Whizzer thought to himself. In fact, Whizzer was not curious at all. Her name was Cordelia, she was about five foot seven, blue eyes, perfectly blonde hair that she would say was natural, but she actually got dyed with the chemicals she had stolen from the ammunition factory during the war, charming smile, but odd laugh and worked for “mother” the same way Whizzer did.</p><p>“Of course, just did not think that you would tell me.”</p><p>“Her name is Cordelia Vandertunt. Or at least, that is her latest alias.” He took the file from Whizzer’s hands, “we think she works for Mother.”</p><p>“Your Mother?” Whizzer asked, faux confusion as he replaced his spectacles on the top of his head again. ‘The Detective who’s always angry,’ smiled, a bloodcurdling smile that almost scared Whizzer, knowing he had overdone it. “Oh, the one who is in the paper!”</p><p>“Yes Mr Brown.” The man took a pack of long dainty cigarettes Whizzer had only ever seen woman and homosexuals smoke from his breast pocket, taking one out before offering Whizzer a second.</p><p>“no thank you Detective, I will politely decline.” He shook his head, “I have done extensive research into Cigarettes being bad for your health.”</p><p>“So, you are one of those nutters.” The detective laughed, holding the cigarette elegantly between his fingers, taking a seat on the desk.</p><p>“no sir, but I will be the one laughing once I outlive you to the sixties.”</p><p>“Why not die now? the twenties will be the peak of society anyway.”</p><p>“hardly detective, I am part of a group that advocates for homosexuals, people of colour and woman’s rights.”</p><p>“as I said, the twenties will be the peak of society.”</p><p>“so, you think equal rights are possible and that they are a bad thing?”</p><p>“no. I just do not agree. Women have a place in the kitchen, their feet are smaller just so they are closer to the sink. Fairies, we- they are on the earth to show us what not to do, they are sick, not even human. same can be said about the n******”</p><p>“ugh, you are so very naff.” ‘the detective who’s always angry’ narrowed his eyes as he recognised the slang as being from the homosexuals at the time. “or maybe that is just your mask.”</p><p>“I am sorry Mr Brown, but what do you think you are insinuating.”</p><p>“oh, nothing Detective,” Whizzer replied, standing up, “you just seem to strike me as…” He shook his head, smiling “it does not matter.”</p><p>“Mr Brown?” ‘the detective who was always angry’ had a warning tone to his voice.</p><p>“A wolf, detective, that is all.”</p><p>“are you…dropping pins?”</p><p>Whizzer pulled his tuxedo jacket back on, walking to the door, “both of us have to be queer for it to be known as ‘dropping pins’ Detective, and we both know that is illegal.” He replied, leaving the interrogation room.</p><p>He left the precinct quickly, replacing the hat on his head as he hailed a cab on the busy street.</p><p>“where to Mister?” the driver asked, pulling up next to him.</p><p>“dreamland.” Whizzer replied, sitting in the back as he stared out of the window, wondering if ‘the detective who was always angry’ was actually a pansy, or just accidentally said ‘we’ instead of ‘‘them’’.</p><p>“alright mate, one dollar fifty.”</p><p>“will two dollars suffice?”</p><p>“of course, sir.”</p><p>Whizzer quickly entered dreamland, the large feathered entrance feeling slightly too grand for first thing on a Tuesday morning. He was instantly made alive by the jazzers warming up their saxophones and pianos as he entered the ballroom, high ceilings with a large chandelier hanging from the centre. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a brief glimpse of ‘mother’ in the large observatory window leading to her office, but as he turned, she disappeared further than he could see.</p><p>“oh, good god Whizzer, are you alright?” the air was knocked out of Whizzer’s lungs as a blur of blonde hugged him tight. “I thought for certain they had got you after the whole, ‘fruited plain’ incident.”</p><p>Whizzer nodded, remembering the raid he had been involved in several weeks earlier at the north end of the rambles in central park, a popular gay man’s hangout. “I am, but my dear girl, you may not be.”</p><p>Cordelia’s face went as white a sheet, “dear lord! Whizzer, my family said they would force me out onto the streets if I got into any more trouble!” she exclaimed, “what have they got on me?”</p><p>Whizzer lowered his voice “they think you have connections to mother.”</p><p>“I do have connections to mother!”</p><p>“look, this will be alright, I have a plan.” He replied, tapping his nose like he had seen done in the movie theatres one time.</p><p>Cordelia moved anxiously on the spot, “what is it?”</p><p>“I have a feeling that the detective on the case- “</p><p>“-handsome but obtuse nose?” Cordelia interrupted</p><p>“- ‘the one who’s always angry’”</p><p>“I have never had him”</p><p>Whizzer shook his head, “well, I have a feeling that he is at the least a jocker, I’m going to have to get proof, but I can tell you for certain that he is a rough trade.”</p><p>“But Whizzer, is this not what we fight against? We believe that it should not be illegal to be a flapper, or a bulldagger, are we not taking steps back by black mailing this poor man for being queer?”</p><p>Whizzer took Cordelia’s face in his hands, “I know my dear girl, but I love you and I vowed that I would keep you safe.” He kissed her cheek as he went to walk off, “now, you may want to consider going underground for several days.”</p><p>Whizzer pranced along as he let his hair loose, whispering how much he had enjoyed his previous night’s activities into the ear of the man who blew the French horn. “It is not the only thing you can blow darling.” He whispered into the man’s ear, winking as he sidled up to the bar, the beautiful singer already having a glass of Champagne.</p><p>“my dear, how are you today?” He asked.</p><p>The girl pulled up her silk gloves, sighing as they instantly fell back down slightly, “not good.”</p><p>“look, Charlotte, I would not ask this of you unless I had to, but we may be getting some of our detective friends visiting us soon...”</p><p>“I will kiss you goodbye if I see any unfamiliar faces.”</p><p>“thank you, my love. Is Mother upstairs?”</p><p>“yes, and she is already in the most intolerable mood.” She replied, picking up her powder compact and adding some more blush to her face, “But she always is with me, how do I look?”</p><p>“perfect as usual darling, you may also want to spend the night with, you know whom.”</p><p>Charlotte smirked, “anytime brother dearest.”</p><p>Charlotte was not Whizzers real sister, anyone could tell you that by how white whizzer was in comparison to her gorgeous caramel skin, but because they all called their boss ‘mother’ it was sometimes nice to joke about it. Whizzer quickly turned to check the entrance, and leapt over the bar, smacking the barkeep’s ass as he pulled open the hidden door that was full of liquor, taking a final smile as he closed it behind him. Quickly, he got onto the elevator.</p><p>“you know where old chap.” He said as he manually closed the doors, the person manning the elevator nodding and putting down his newspaper before beginning to crank the handle that pulled the elevator slowly upwards, Whizzer smoothing his hair down again.</p><p>Mother didn’t even turn around as he entered. “you are late.” She said, her tone as cold as the ice in her glass, as per usual. She shook the beautiful sculpted glass she held, the ice cubes clinking against the side in the brown liquid. “By four days in fact.”</p><p>“Mother, I- “</p><p>“you will not interrupt me.” She suddenly turned, and as Whizzer did every time, he saw her, his jaw dropped as he marvelled at her beauty. Her long brown hair cascading over her shoulders, her long ballgown, a beautiful pink, and a grey fur wrapped around her. She gestured to the decanter on a pure gold drinks trolley, and Whizzer stepped forward, feeling rude to not accept the second drink she had already made. There was something about her that made you feel as though she could read your mind. “now, Whizzer Brown, why could you not keep that thing of yours in your trousers long enough so that you would not be caught by the police?!”</p><p>“that was not what I was taken into the station for. They need an in, they are onto you Mother.”</p><p>She casually drained her drink, quickly pouring herself another, “who are they using?”</p><p>“Cordelia. But they have taken a bite for the Vandertunt name. I have a plan.”</p><p>Mother nodded her head firmly, in thought as she bit her lip, “They have been tailing you, I presume?”</p><p>“for at least a week after they let me out, that is why I am late.”</p><p>“and how do you know they are not following you now?”</p><p>“I am trained mother. Anyway, the lead detective is a homo, I think I could- “Mother held up her hand to stop Whizzer and he instantly trailed off, knowing better than to disrespect her.</p><p>“well you obviously are not trained enough.” She said as she closed her fingers into a point and moved her hand until it was pointing out of her magnificent eye shaped window overlooking the ballroom. Whizzer followed until he finally saw him.</p><p>“that is him! That is the queer one!” He exclaimed.</p><p>“is he now…”</p><p>Suddenly the door was slammed open, Cordelia breathing heavily as she stood in its doorway, “ Police… they have a warrant…they are searching the place-” she finally slowed her breathing down and managed to get the words out, “- they were looking for Mother, Whizzer and Me, I must hide otherwise they will know that Whizzer was fibbing!”</p><p>“okay. Whizzer, you go downstairs, use the back exit,” she sighed, “I am sure you are used to it dear god; I will join you in a moment.” Mother instructed calmly, “Cordelia, hide up here, they will not find you.”</p><p>Whizzer sprang into action, going back down in the elevator before heading out of the back exit, circling around the building before entering through the front for the second time that day, strutting again into the ballroom. “Ahhh, Detective, it is wonderful to see you again. May I ask, why are you here at my place of work?”</p><p>“Mr brown, I am sure you know why I am here.”</p><p>“oh good, because I was meaning to ask you if you maybe wanted to go out for afternoon tea with me soon. I really did want to hear more about your views on… homosexuals.” Whizzer was playing the only true card he knew how to play, the flirtatious version of himself, which also just so happened to be the normal version of himself.</p><p>“well then, you obviously do not know why I am here.” ‘the detective who’s always angry’ replied, “I am looking for mother, we have intel that she is - good god woman, what are you doing here!?” Whizzer turned and almost fell over in shock, seeing Mother dressed in a plain, modest dress, adding years to her age as she walked in on flats compared to her normal cutthroat heels. “Where is Jason?”</p><p>She wore an outdated purse around her shoulder as she went to kiss ‘the one who’s always angry’ cheek. “I booked a nanny; will you please introduce me Marvin?” Whizzer was even more shocked to find her voice leap up several octaves, warm and sunny as she spoke.</p><p>“Well, this is my wife Trina, and this- “he gestured to Whizzer “This is Mr Brown.”</p><p>“How do you do Mr Brown; it is wonderful to meet you.”</p><p>Whizzer was able to finally remove the fish eyed stare from his face, “likewise… Trina” As he said her name, Trina broke character for a second, becoming the icy woman Whizzer had always known her to be.</p><p>“Trina, why are you not at home, making dinner?”</p><p>Trina’s face became doe eyed and innocent again, “well my dear husband, I was making us some reservations. Can we go somewhere more…” She turned to see the group of her employees, all with similar faces to Whizzers, “private?”</p><p>Marvin nodded as he escorted her outside, Mother nodding at Whizzer, communicating unnoticed to turn the place clean, and the group got to work. Several minutes later, she entered again, alone, the room instantly turning silent.</p><p>“It looks like because of you Whizzer Brown; I will be having another child.” She sneered slightly, turning to see the jazzers having stopped, “get back to work all of you, or I will personally rip off your balls and shove them right up your behind, although-“ she turned back to Whizzer again, voice low and quiet, “-some of you would probably enjoy that.”</p><p>Then she strutted off, stopping rather suddenly, “actually Whizzer, I want you to go ahead with the plan.”</p>
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<a name="section0017"><h2>17. whizzer, the psychiatrist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>another Dr Whizzer fic, bc I find it cuteeeeee and sexy ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Psychiatrist after psychiatrist. It was all the rage of the time, paying someone to listen to you explain your problems in detail, pretending they knew how to fix everything when they clearly didn’t. You didn’t even need to pay someone for you to know exactly what they would suggest; meditation, manifestation, other bullshit like that unless you had real issues. </p><p>Marvin had been seeing them since he was a child, his parents forcing him to after their staff complained about the child numerous times, complaining about how ghastly he was, how he was too boisterous, rude and generally despicable. Marvin’s first Psychiatrist diagnosed Marvin with ‘giddy seizures’ at his parents request, giving him a right to have his aggressive episodes in school. He found out that his parents had paid the man off years later, that was when he was in his teens. </p><p>That was also when he met his wife. Well at the time, she was obviously not his wife, but he found her, unlike most of the girls he had been with, nice, easy to to talk to. They met at a bus stop, not exactly a meet cute, but proved to be a nice story to tell other couples when they needed to prove to them that they were in a happy relationship. In fact, Marvin met her on his way home from the first time he had ever had sex. Dingy motel room that his sweetheart at the time had almost forced him him into as he felt sick, touching her breasts under her shirt as they kissed, blaming it on the nerves. </p><p>The thing was, most people did not know that it was their first time, the girls gossiping about him at five o clock after school	, waiting at their own stops for the busses that came every half an hour. His sweetheart was one of those girls, and Marvin would sometimes wait with her outside of the school, him offering round a cigarette as the girls would swoon, the Sweetheart describing the size of his ‘manhood’ , as they would put it, too embarrassed to use ‘grownup terms’ , probably suggesting that they weren’t ready to have sex.</p><p>But they did, and Marvin had already forgot it by the time he got to the bus stop, not forgot, exactly, rewritten as many a psychiatrist would say. He waited alone for a couple of minutes, thinking over what had happened. A fourteen-year-old boy, sitting alone, head on his lap, watching the world slip away from him.</p><p>“are you alright?” Trina had always been kind, optimistic, too positive for her own good. </p><p>That was the start of their relationship, staying together for several years before Trina got pregnant. Sixteen, too young, so they got married, Marvin finding a job working for Trina’s father as soon as he got out of high school. He rose through the ranks, starting his own company and becoming successful, with donations from his parents under an anonymous donor. Jason came along, and he decided to go back to therapy, but got fed up of more men explaining how he needed to lead his life, telling him he wasn’t straight when he most definitely was. </p><p>That was how he ended up where he was right now. Sitting on a brown leather couch in a waiting room, nose stuck in a newspaper to stop his anxiety rising. He hated the first session with a new psychiatrist, they would ask about his childhood, start at the beginning. He would have to describe the first psychiatrist he saw, the giddy seizures, how his parents would lie, losing his virginity, and finally meeting his wife. He had done it so many times now, he had basically got it scripted. </p><p>Marvin put down the newspaper on top of the stack, shaking his leg up and down as he looked around at his new surroundings. A magazine on the pile next to him caught his eye, a holiday to Uruguay, a shirtless lifeguard running out of the ocean, staring at Marvin with an intense look in his eyes. Marvin quickly turned it over, instead staring at the high ceilings, wood painted white with large windows made from perplex rather than glass. It felt sterile, like a hospital, and smelt of peaches, sweet and deceiving. He continually checked his watch, nervous to get it over with, and finally he saw the door opening across the room, a man exiting as he quickly whispered something in his secretary’s ear, causing him to giggle softly, before checking through the file he was handed. He nodded graciously as the secretary started speaking and quickly, he turned around, going straight back to the room he came from. </p><p>The secretary cleared his throat and Marvin looked up from his hand’s in his lap. “Dr Brown will see you now.” </p><p>Marvin got up, walking to the door the man had just come out of, knocking gently as he stood by it. </p><p>A muffled “come in” forced its way through the closed door.</p><p>Even though Marvin had chosen who he deemed to be the most attractive doctor out of the selection, he was still taken aback slightly as he saw Dr Brown, a bright, smiling, happy go lucky ray of sunshine that, for a change, did not make Marvin want to kill himself! The man seemed to have an innocence about him, a naivety that Marvin had never seen a psychiatrist exude. </p><p>Dr Brown looked Marvin up and down, the bright smile still on his face until he caught the look of confusion on Marvin’s and suddenly, he was leaping around the room, face flushed. </p><p>“it’s a bit warm in here, isn’t it!?” he exclaimed as began to fan himself, opening the large window behind his desk and slamming the photograph that sat there, face down on it. He slowed to a holt, regaining his composure, and pushed his 80s style glasses up onto the bridge of his nose awkwardly, putting his hand out, “Hi there, I’m Doctor Whizzer Brown, but you can call me whatever you want.” He said, smiling brightly before his face flushed again, “sorry, I didn’t mean that in a weird way- oh you probably didn’t think it was weird… umm… okay, why don’t you take a seat Mr Feldman.” He sounded flustered, and looked it, leaving Marvin questioning a lot about his character.</p><p>“okay- “Dr Brown continued, sitting opposite Marvin as he twitched nervously “-before we start, can I ask you why you chose me as your Psychiatrist, it states very clearly on the website that I mainly treat children.”</p><p>“you were the most attractive.” Marvin shrugged watching Whizzer turn an even darker red, “although you probably get told that a lot.”</p><p>“actually, no…” Whizzer stuttered, “I… um… thank you-“ suddenly he snapped out of his mood so fast you could almost see the hearts in his eyes burst as he realised he needed to do his job, “- but that is curious, most men choose people less attractive than them to boost their ego, not saying I’m more attractive than you-“ he hastened to add, the bright smile appearing once again, “- also, looking through your record, you’ve had about… two, six- “</p><p>“eighteen.” Marvin quickly interrupted</p><p>“yes, eighteen different psychiatrists, and they are all male. You definitely have daddy issues; I can tell you that.”</p><p>“right, so the straight guy has daddy issues.” Marvin replied sarcastically.</p><p>“oh no, it’s more common than you think. it isn’t just a kink in real life, it’s the feeling of letting your child down all the time or being more aggressive than the average male. Don’t worry about it, approximately forty percent of the population have it. Hell, even I do!”</p><p>Marvin cocked his head to the side, “how does yours affect you?”</p><p>Whizzer rolled his eyes, “well mine is a bad example because it is the kink form, but yours could range from needing to be in control all of the time right up to needing a lot of assurance in a relationship.”</p><p>“you like being called ‘daddy’ in bed?” Marvin scoffed</p><p>“god no.” Whizzer replied, leaving a confused look on Marvin’s face. “anyway, tell me about- “</p><p>“my childhood? Well I grew up in…”</p><p>“no, I was going to say when you realised you were gay.”</p><p>“I’m not gay.” </p><p>“okay. when did you realise that you aren’t in love with your wife?”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>“okay. When did you realise that…”</p><p>“-I’m sorry,” Marvin interrupted, “but where are you getting all of these guesses from?”</p><p>Whizzer smiled as he put down the notepad in his hands, “Well you just confirmed everything I have asked you. My secretary told me that you turned over the Uruguay magazine, is that true?”</p><p>“well, yes but- “<br/>“I display that purposefully to check my client’s sexuality and, or whether they feel like they are cheating on their significant other if they’re looking at it.”</p><p>“that proves nothing.”<br/>“on the contrary- “Whizzer paused, “-everything I have done and asked has revealed to me more than enough for me to know almost everything about you.”</p><p>Marvin scoffed, chuckling slightly, “that isn’t true.” He smiled, shaking his head. </p><p>“really? - “whizzer cocked his eyebrow, a smirk on his face, “-because when I hid the photo from you, you obviously pitied me after doing the same thing with maybe, other sexual partners?” Whizzer got up, picking the photo back up, a picture of him with obviously his siblings, all smiling, the same face six times over. </p><p>“that’s not true.”</p><p>“okay but look at your wedding ring right now.”</p><p>“what about it?” Marvin asked as he looked down at the ring he was pulling on and off of his finger.</p><p>“the inside is shiny and clean in comparison to the outside, you take it off often.”</p><p>“how do you know it’s not for work?”</p><p>Whizzer smiled, “because you just confirmed it. You are cheating on your wife; you obviously are not in love with her and I can’t help you unless you start being honest!”</p><p>“I- “<br/>“and you’ve been flirting with me since the beginning of our session.”</p><p>Suddenly Marvin realised that Whizzer wasn’t naïve or innocent, he was smart, incredibly smart. Able to weasel out information from anyone, and very tiny at first, but noticeable butterflies that he pushed down out of the way started to float up to his stomach and press on his organs. </p><p>“I- “<br/>“mind if I smoke?”<br/>“I- um- “a tiny crinkle forced itself onto Marvin’s forehead as he blinked slightly, “-I don’t mind.”</p><p>“okay, well I don’t actually want to smoke, I want to know what memory you have associated with it.” </p><p>“umm, really?”<br/>“yes, many people have memories associated with it, they tell a lot about character.” Whizzer sat back down again, notepad back in hand. Marvin just stared for a second.</p><p>“My girlfriend from high school.” Whizzer nodded, urging him on as he began to write on the paper, “I used to wait for her to catch the bus, the ‘five o clock ladies’ that’s what they were known as.” He paused, trying to remember it correctly. “I used to have a cigarette and hand it around as they gossiped, most of the time about me and my sweetheart. She would make up these lies about us, saying I promised I would marry her, that we had fucked. None of it was true.”</p><p>“how old were you?”</p><p>“fourteen.” Whizzer nodded as he waited for Marvin to speak. Marvin just broke as everything Whizzer said finally caught up with him. “I am gay.” He said tearfully, “I just, I… this is the first time I’ve admitted it.”</p><p>Whizzer smiled, “thank you, Marvin for sharing that with me. You’re already making progress!” he exclaimed, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his suit jacket. He replaced them back on the bridge of his nose. “Let’s talk about your Wife, what’s her name?”</p><p>Marvin wiped his eyes, “Trina.”</p><p>“that’s a lovely name,” Whizzer said gently, “how long have you been married for?”</p><p>“Jesus, about- “he did the maths in his head as he sat there, “about twenty-four years”</p><p>Whizzer jotted it down, “do you have any other family?”</p><p>“I have a son, and… and close friends, that’s all.”</p><p>He nodded his head, “how old is your son?”</p><p>Marvin smiled as he thought of Jason, a proud, excited smile that he finally got a chance to talk about his son, “he’s twenty-three, a professional chess player!” </p><p>“so, you got married, because you were expecting him? You must have been what… sixteen, seventeen?”</p><p>Marvin nodded regretfully. “we met when I was fourteen, we got pregnant at sixteen. She tried to hide it from her family, but once they found out, her father made us get married, so we went down to the town hall, signed the papers. “</p><p>“your marriage was never based on love; it can be easy to understand why you are resorting to… using other methods to satisfying yourself.” He put down the notepad, standing up again, “but cheating on your wife is inexcusable. Who are you sleeping with?” Whizzer began to pace around the room as he listened.</p><p>“Women.” Marvin said as though it was obvious.</p><p>“okay. Do they have a resemblance to your wife?”</p><p>Marvin thought about it, “I guess.”</p><p>“describe them to me.” Whizzer stated, and Marvin watched him pace.</p><p>“they usually have sharp cheekbones and jaw lines, brown hair, kind eyes…” he trailed off as he realised that he was just describing Whizzer.</p><p>He took a seat next to Marvin on the couch, “have you ever noticed yourself finding more masculine women attractive?” Marvin nodded; mouth shut. “you need to discuss your feelings with your wife. I can almost guarantee that she knows you are cheating on her.”</p><p>“I just, I don’t want to go through that.”</p><p>“Mr Feldman, you are not only making yourself unhappy, but also your wife. It will be hard in the beginning, there will be tears shed and a lot of arguments, but in the long run you will be so much happier because of it.” Marvin nodded. Whizzer checked the clock on his phone, “okay, we have a little time left, is there anything else you would like to discuss before next week?” </p><p>“I’m sorry, doctor Brown, but I don’t think I’ll be continuing with you as my Psychiatrist. As you said, you mainly work with children.”</p><p>Whizzer smiled, a slightly cold but accepting smile, “are you sure that is your reason Mr Feldman?”</p><p>“I want to take you out sometime Dr Brown.”</p><p>“you do?” Whizzer flushed bright red, a cute smile crossing over his face before he closed his eyes, nodding slightly, “no.”</p><p>A hurt look hit Marvin as he shrunk slightly, “oh, okay.”</p><p>“no, I mean, legally I can’t.” he winked as he opened the door of his office, “come back in two years and I’ll think about it.”<br/>-</p><p>Whizzer stood on the sidewalk, checking his watch and scoffing at the time, “he was supposed to be here.” Whizzer muttered to himself. He put down his briefcase and sat on the stoop, creasing his suit trousers, but he didn’t care, “this is why you need to stop depending on people Whizzer.” </p><p>He picked up his Phone, calling the number, “we’re over.” Was all he said, hanging up quickly and putting it back down. It rang on the stoop, and without meaning to, Whizzer picked it up. </p><p>“look, I’ve had a bit too much to drink. I can’t pick you up.”</p><p>Whizzer rolled his eyes, “it’s four goddamn pm. We are over.”</p><p>“fuck you.”</p><p>“ohhhh, ‘cause that really hurts!” he fake wined, “The sex wasn’t even good, Goodbye motherfucker!” </p><p>He put the phone down, angry, looking down at his hands to stop himself from bursting into tears, when he suddenly heard a car pull up. A low sportscar, but he kept looking to his hands, swallowing hard. </p><p>“hey there doctor.” </p><p>Recognising the voice, Whizzer looked up, “Mr… Mr Feldman?” he leapt to his feet, trying to distract from how unprofessional he looked, “what are you doing here? It’s after work hours, and I haven’t seen you for, what? A year? Do you want me to book you an appointment?”</p><p>“no actually.” Marvin got out of the car, a single rose in his hand that he had bought for whizzer, a deep blush taking over his face that matched the red of the flower. “exactly two years ago today we had our appointment, and you said…”</p><p>“come back in two years and I’ll think about it.” He stood up, accepting the flower, taking a deep sniff. </p><p>“well, can I take you out tonight?” </p><p>Whizzer smiled brightly the same way he did when they first met and nodded. Marvin quickly swooped Whizzer into a deep kiss, whizzer dropping the rose in his surprise, before his hands moved to Marvin’s face, kissing him back as he finally felt satisfied, drawing the hearts on the back of Marvin’s neck.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. the games I play</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Anyway, this is like the written version of the games I play, I may do this for several songs, It's easy to get inspiration. </p><p>Also for my EPQ at college, I'm thinking of animating the ENTIRETY of falsettos? ideas on that? Anyways hope y'all enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Whizzer scrunched his forehead, wincing as he felt the harsh sunlight stream into the room. He put a hand up to his face, trying to block out the light, but failed miserably, eventually cracking his eyes open the tiniest amount. His Hangover finally hit, and he groaned, deep rooted, from the pit of his stomach and he quickly sat up, vomiting all over the thin bed sheet. The scent was enough to make him want to throw up again. He held his breath, head pounding, body shaking, and stripped the bedsheets, trying to figure out what had happened. He felt delicate. He had felt delicate ever since he broke up with Marvin, or rather Marvin broke up with him.</p><p>He couldn’t really remember what happened, A blur of rage, his vision clouded red and bloody, then the motel. The Motel. He forced himself into the nearest one, trying to find the cheapest room and folded up his clothes, what little Marvin shoved into the suitcase as they fought. He had scoffed that first night, his messy life spewing out of the suitcase with his clothes, and for the first time he felt delicate, not different or independent, delicate.</p><p>Whizzer pulled on his silk dressing gown from the foot of his bed, elegant, delicate and limped out of the bedroom, bedsheets bundled in his arms and he dropped them by the door. He reached upwards in a stretch, yawning and wincing simultaneously before letting his limbs relax again, and began to start his routine, shuffling over to the kitchen.</p><p>He stood on his tiptoes, letting the robe flutter open to expose his naked body as he reached for a pot, hands fumbling and stretching until he clasped the cold, metal handle. He put it down on the counter, closing his eyes as the loud noise it made echoed through his skull, vibrating in his bones. He pressed his cold fingers into his eye sockets, the compression making him feel slightly better before he removed them, leaving the world spinning and bright, as though he was on a hallucinogenic, as though he had forgotten what colour looked like.</p><p>He filled the pot with water, watching it bubble and froth, before placing it over the hob, turning on the gas as it failed to light. Like usual. He took the cigarette lighter from the counter and sparked It a couple of times before it lit, watching the fire intensely for a moment. It always reminded him of Marvin, the passion, the exhaust, the bright scalding light, before he drew it to the gas ring. The ring suddenly lit in a spectacular illusion of warmth, Whizzer pulling back his hand as the flames licked and grabbed at his thumb. He couldn’t care anymore, the pain being the only thing he could feel.</p><p>Beautiful. That was how Whizzer Brown would describe pain. One single stab that could reduce even the strongest Man to tears. Powerful.</p><p>How he wished to be.</p><p>He placed the pot on top of the flames, leaning against the cupboards. The countertop dug into his thighs, but he didn’t mind, eyes catching a glimpse of something he couldn’t remember from yesterday, which on the contrary was almost everything. Except for a name, which was odd. He never usually remembered names. Jason. He probably just associated it with the one child he loved, Marvin’s son, his son.</p><p>He slowly walked across the room to the table beside the door and almost threw up again. A note. He hated it when they left notes. A person’s handwriting could tell a lot about them, Whizzer’s neat and scripted, flouncy and more often than not, feminine. This man’s was all block capitals, trying to be aggressive and on top as Whizzer read the words.</p><p>
  <em>call me. </em>
</p><p>Followed by a number.</p><p>Next to it, forty dollars in twenties.</p><p>Whizzer hated it when they left money, it made him feel as though he was a common whore, and in some ways he was. He didn’t enjoy sex anymore, it wasn’t even sex, it was a fuck. A fuck was emotionless, aggressive, they were gone before sunrise the next morning. But sex… sex could be anything and everything, sex was when he couldn’t tear himself away from his partner the next morning for fear they’d vanish. Sex was being able to stare into their eyes and feel the silent ‘I love you’. Sex with Marvin was the best thing in the world.</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>I don't look for trouble<br/>I do not accept blame<br/>I've a good and a bad side<br/>But they're one and the same<br/>Ask me to arouse you<br/>I will rise and obey<br/>These are the games I play</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>If only the world could see. See how he could have sex with anyone, but all he cared about was attention. His payment in kind was the attention, that’s why he hated when they left him money, because they knew it too.</p><p>He slipped the bills into the gowns pocket, letting it flap and trail behind him as he went back to the stove, seeing the water simmer and bubble in the pot. From the shelf above, he reached for a strainer, placing it down lightly on the counter before reaching up higher for a mug.</p><p>All he could remember was the shattered pieces on the ground, blinking slowly as he couldn’t think how they got there. He didn’t bother to pick them up, getting a new piece of china, thin and perfect, a matching saucer to go with it. He gently filled the strainer with green tea leaves.</p><p>He preferred green tea; it was healthier, more delicate.</p><p>Like him.</p><p>He didn’t bother to step over the shattered china, walking straight over it as it dug into the bottom of his feet, not even wincing as he took his cup and saucer into the dingy room beside the bedroom.</p><p>Even though it was a bright day, the windowless bathroom made him feel as though it was late at night, as he precariously balanced the saucer on the side of the bath, pulling back the curtain.</p><p>He half expected to see someone behind it every time, not even afraid if death were to jump out at him. But no one did jump out.</p><p>‘Alone as usual’ he thought to himself, leaning over the tub to turn on the water.</p><p>He used the time whilst he was drawing the bath the same way each morning. Tying his dressing gown tight and walking hastily out of the rooms, collecting any washing as he did. This morning the footprints he left were bloody outlines, as he paced down the long open balcony to the stairs. He felt his skin crawl, knowing that people would watch from behind closed doors, through peepholes as though it was a sport, but he held his ground, refusing them the satisfaction. He hopped down the stairs, hangover still pressing into his skull, but the cool stone on his bare, swollen feet seemed to relax him as he walked down to the car park, holding the bundle tightly to his chest.</p><p>He tensed his jaw as he walked into the room the man would be in. He hated him, didn’t even know his name, all he knew was that if he couldn’t pay rent, the man wouldn’t mind a blowjob or two to postpone it.</p><p>“hey there doll.” Whizzer would usually wave and continue to the laundry room, but he kicked himself, realising that he only had the twenties to hand. So, he approached the desk. “wanna give daddy a little sugar?”</p><p>Whizzer almost shuddered and bolted, but he knew he needed to wash his only sheets. “sorry sir, d’you have change for a twenty?”</p><p>The man looked Whizzer up and down like a slab of meat. “you know your rent was due a week ago.”</p><p>Pristine. Whizzer looked innocent because he knew that was what the man would always want. Delicate. Like a woman. “I know and I’m sorry but- “He hated them thinking he was a woman.</p><p>“well doll- “The man took Whizzer’s chin and the twenty, “-a blowjob won’t cut it this time.”</p><p>His heart dropped to his stomach as he plastered on an innocent smile. Pristine, he had to stay as perfect and put together as people thought he was. “I’m sorry sir, what would cut it?”</p><p>“I’ll drop by your rooms tonight. You’d better be there doll.” He changed the twenty for three fives and five ones, placing them gently into Whizzer palm as he felt his stomach turn, quickly escaping the man, but he called out after him, “You know I can see through the robe!”</p><p>Whizzer sped up, quickly throwing his sheets and clothes into the washing machine and slotting in a dollar, closing the door as he ran out the long way, feeling disgusted about what he knew he would have to do later.</p><p>He only let himself breath once he made it back to his room. Going straight away to the bathroom to wash off the man’s touch.</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>I screw every morning<br/>Then bathe and drink tea<br/>I've been playing canasta<br/>Disastrously<br/>All my recreation seems to suit me okay<br/>These are the games I play</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>He slid into the bathtub, head out as he picked up the green tea, the hot bitter liquid gliding down his throat as he tried to relax, picking at the grout with his free hand. He took his time in the bath, taking a bar of soap and softly washing every part of him as different memories came back.</p><p>How cold the bar was last night.</p><p>He washed his forearms.</p><p>The last time he called his mother.</p><p>He washed his chest.</p><p>Marvin pushing into him with the suitcase as he slammed the door in his face.</p><p>Whizzer sighed, putting down the soap and took a deep breath, submerging his head under the water. It was cold, so cold then suddenly it burned and tingled with how hot it was, but Whizzer stayed under. Sometimes he wondered if anyone in the world would care if he didn’t come up, if anyone would come to his funeral, if anyone would even realise if he was dead in the bathtub and his corpse would rot, alone, how long until someone would come to find him.</p><p>He spluttered as he came up for air, trying to catch his breath, sighing as he reminisced his relationship, a single tear falling down his face.</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>It's tough with love<br/>Love's tough to show<br/>Let me face the music<br/>It's a song that I was waiting to hear so long<br/>So long ago</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>A boy-toy, that’s all he is, used and abused, thrown around for anyone. He thought he liked it that way, he found it hard expressing love, his parents cold, never in the same room, never ever showing him any love. That’s why he had it confused with lust for years until… until Marvin. Until the tingling in between his legs became a pain in his heart, and it scared him. Until he was mean. Marvin was mean, but so was Whizzer, he didn’t want to be a housewife, he was probably worse at cooking than Marvin.</p><p>He had begun to accept it being his fault, but he had never been treated fairly. He kept trying to justify it.</p><p>He laughed cynically to himself. An almost middle age man still trying to find himself.</p><p>For a second, he felt his brain move and warp, He had never wanted monogamy before, then he met Marvin. Suddenly he realized, monogamy was all he really wanted for a long time, and he was so close until he sabotaged it, acting out. He tried to keep up his guarded walls for as long as he could, keeping up his reputation as he slept around, even while he was with Marvin, and towards the end, he stopped. He didn’t tell Marvin, but he had stopped. Now all the commitment had crumbled and broken, thrown away in a second like it meant nothing, when, to Whizzer and the longest relationship he had ever had, it meant everything.</p><p>He closed his eyes for a second before they snapped open. Checking his watch that was on the bathmat. He cursed, reaching out of the bathtub to the shelf above him, turning on the radio, changing the channel delicately until he reached the right one, the static between channels hurting his head.</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>I bet on the horses<br/>I die by degree<br/>I am sure his divorce is<br/>A tribute to me<br/>Ask me if I love him<br/>It depends on the day<br/>These are the games I play</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>Turbulent. That was how he would describe their relationship, he missed the fast pace, love hate side of it. So, he turned to gambling for the thrill, but he didn’t even feel that anymore, blowing his money on the Pony’s like his father did. He would always remember what he said.</p><p>“Have you ever had a better two minutes in the last three years?”</p><p>Whizzer had always agreed, and then came Marvin, not suiting his aesthetic, frumpy, not stylish, an older man not many found attractive. And somehow, he thrilled Whizzer. But he got scared, using his pretty boy persona, pretending only to care about materialistic things that Marvin bought, when just being with him was enough.</p><p>He stayed in that mindset all through the breakup, finally letting himself be himself. The pretty boy persona was the only way he was able to walk away.</p><p>Whizzer sighed as he lost the next month’s rent. He stood up, his body red from the hot water and steam surrounded him, shielding him in a hot layer. He bent over, pulling out the plug, the water whirling and streaming down the drain and got out. Whizzer wiped the condensation off of the mirror with a towel and caught his first glimpse of himself.</p><p>Delicate.</p><p>His carved eyes were dark and senseless, as if he had seen too many horrors, skin drooping into his cheekbones, hollow. He didn’t recognise himself, the alcohol being the only thing in and out of his system in days. He couldn’t afford food, and the drinks were just what people would send over to him.</p><p>He wasn’t a pretty boy anymore; he didn’t know why people bought him drinks.</p><p>Maybe because they’d see him go home with a new man each night, an easy fuck.</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>It’s tough, my friend</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>Love’s looking strong</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>Play again the music</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>It’s a song that I’ve been waiting to hear</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>For much too long</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>Years, years too long</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>And for the first time since they broke up, he cried, gripping the basin tight to stop himself from sliding to the ground. Raw sobs, not caring who heard through the paper-thin walls that the neighbours would bang on each night. He hated who he had become. Forcing himself to try and keep up the emotionally distant and nonchalant persona, when it hurt so badly.</p><p>Just a one-night stand that turned into a weekly thing, that turned into living together as Marvin manipulated him.</p><p>Just sex, then he caught feelings but could never be sure how Marvin would react.</p><p>Just sex, but the urge to tell Marvin he loved him, plagued his daydreams.</p><p>Just sex, but those three tiny words could break his ice cold exterior.</p><p>So instead he sabotaged it.</p><p>He took a closer look in the mirror, everything going blurry, frowning at his bruised neck and collarbone, people trying to mark him as theirs. That was one of the reasons he kept going back to Marvin, he didn’t need to bite or leave marks on him, because he knew Whizzer was his.</p><p>Whizzer wiped his eyes, and bent over, delicately clipping his watch back on his thin wrist, carefully making sure he avoided the cuts that plagued his birdlike structure. He was fragile now, easily broken.</p><p>He didn’t bother to replace the robe, airdrying instead. He checked the time, seven am, he couldn’t be sure how long he slept, one, maybe two hours, so he decided to go back to bed. He stumbled out of the bathroom to the next room, slowly crawling onto the bed, curling up into a tiny ball, a chill catching him without any clothes or covers.</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>It hurts not to love him</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>It hurts when love fades</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>It’s hard when part of him </strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>Is off playing family charades</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>He closed his eyes, shivering, and replayed the ‘happy family’ he was once a part of. Cooking with Trina by the stove, sometimes her not hating him. Jason coming home, beating Whizzer at chess because he never got to win against his dad, then it all uprooting when Marvin arrived. Always having something to complain about, always mad, always leaving Trina crying as she would refuse Whizzer’s help.</p><p>All a game to Marvin.</p><p>All a sick fantasy where he was in charge.</p><p>Slowly around him the world faded to black as he finally relaxed, not wanting to wake up again, letting himself tumble into the darkness that was always there.</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>Ask me if I need him</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>Get him out of my way</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>These are</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>These are the games</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>These are the games</strong>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>These are the only games I play.</strong>
  </b>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. The others</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is super short and kind of inspired by the boys in the band? idk. If you've watched it  COMMENT BC I WANNA HEAR WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK ABOUT IT BC I THOUGHT IT WAS INCREDIBLE and if you haven't watched it WATCH IT!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“how many others?” Marvin stood quietly, the whole room staring at him as he spoke, “how many others?” His voice rose to a shout as he stalked up to Whizzer, his glass full of vodka.</p><p>“enough for me to get off.” Whizzer replied, taking a swig from the glass. Around him the world was beginning to sway, and he couldn’t control the words that came out of his mouth. “fuck off Marvin, you aren’t the ‘perfect picture’ your ex-wife is sitting over there after you cheated.”</p><p>“that was different, I was in a loveless marriage- “</p><p>“-well this sure ain’t love full!” Whizzer interrupted, pushing Marvin back with a single finger, “I’ve had it with you pretending to be the all-powerful, the all mighty, the perfect man. I’ve had it with your games- “</p><p>“-My games? As soon as I talk to another man, your tongue is already down someone else’s throat!”</p><p>Whizzer scoffed, turning to face the room, “you hear that. He thinks he own me.” His words were beginning to slur and quickly he lit up another cigarette.</p><p>“I do own you.”</p><p>Whizzer stood square, “no one owns me. I will happily fuck as many men as I want, I never promised myself to you, and I never will.”</p><p>“whizzer, let me get you somethin’ doll.” Trina said as she stood up off of the fire escape like stairs, running to the kitchen to fetch some water.</p><p>“no. I belong to no one. I’ve needed to say this for so god damn long.” He approached Marvin, taking a long draw from the cigarette that would almost constantly live between his fingers. “I hate always being the home wrecking whore, or the bad guy. People look at me like I choose to be like this. I didn’t choose.”</p><p>“but you sure could restrain yourself if you tried.”</p><p>“You’re the bad guy, not me! You make it out as though you come home to find me in bed with another man each night, I don’t tell you about them unless you ask. They’re pure simple sex, like you should have been.” He began to back Marvin into the corner, “but you manipulated me, and you lied and now- and now I love you and I can’t do anything about it.”</p><p>Whizzer stopped, inches away from Marvin’s face as he exhaled, a burst of smoke threatening Marvin’s face. “you love me?” He was quiet now, thoughtful.</p><p>“I love you.” The tears were beginning to well up in his eyes as he tried to force them back down. “but I don’t want to.”</p><p>“I love you too.” Marvin exhaled in relief, “I’ll try and be better for you.”</p><p>Whizzer nodded, smiling as much as he could while holding in his sobs, “me too.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. it's the twenties, yabbah dabbah, ooh the twenties part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, this one will have a part 3, crazy stuff will go down. THIS IS NOT MY VIEW, just correct of the time. I find it best to read the dialogue in a very posh English accent, makes it work.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Standing at the window, as per usual, was Mother, her stunning silver floor length gown accentuating her curves, with her lightly curled hair pooling on her shoulders. The expensive whisky glass held daintily in her outstretched hand; the clear liquid thick with alcohol.</p><p>She never needed to turn around, always knowing exactly who it was who entered the room, seeing and hearing everything without watching.</p><p>“you look rather fetching tonight Whizzer.” She said, stood staring out of the window at the full tables, Charlotte’s deep voice carrying through the glass as she sang the smooth jazz.</p><p>“as do you mother.” She turned to face him, “you are drop dead gorgeous ma’am, your husband does, in no means, deserve you!”</p><p>“well, my Husband does, in no means, deserve you also” Mother replied icily, taking a long sip of vodka from the glass, pausing as she debated with herself. “Or maybe you two are perfect for one another.” She scoffed, “I presume that is where you are heading off to. A date with my husband.”</p><p>Whizzer instantly wiped the excited smile from his face, feeling guilty all of a sudden. “it is not a ‘date’,” He lied “well, I mean, it is not just- never mind.”</p><p>Mother scowled at Whizzer, strutting towards him, staggering ever so slightly from the copious amounts of alcohol in her blood. She stared him down, putting a finger onto his chest as she pushed him back, Whizzer, able to smell the liquor on her breath even from across the room, trying his hardest not to gag now. “Whatever you do, Whizzer Brown - “She punctuated her words by digging her finger into his chest “-you will not even dare to fall in love with my husband.”</p><p>Whizzer let her stumble forward slightly and lean on him before standing upright again, swaying from side to side, “Mother, do you think that It may be time to slow down on the drinking, you have not even sobered up since yesterday.”</p><p>She smacked his hands away from her arms, “do not even think about it Whizzer.” She hissed, “I have every right to be drinking right now, my husband- my husband- “suddenly the cold exterior she had almost always adorned fell as she started to cry, loud ugly tears that smudged her makeup, “my husband is a… a fucking faggot.” She wept, Whizzer clenching his teeth slightly at her choice of language before softening, feeling sorry for her, awkwardly standing there, not sure how he was meant to react. She quickly turned back into stone, Whizzer handing her his handkerchief as she patted her eyes, mascara dripping down to her chin. “tell anyone about this and your body will be found at the bottom of the Hudson.” She threatened, Whizzer knowing better than to argue with her considering three of the policemen working with her Husband had gone missing within the week since Whizzer was taken into the station.</p><p>Whizzer picked out the pocket watch from his suit pocket, “I would not dream of it Mother,” He replied, making a face and quickly going to the window, looking down upon the ballroom, watching Charlotte sway from side to side as she graciously accepted her applause. He heard the sound of Mother downing the rest of her drink, glancing towards her shakily pouring more vodka from her decanter.</p><p>“did you really have to do this here?” She asked, joining Whizzer by the window as she watched her husband enter, Whizzer nervously raking a hand through his gelled back hair.</p><p>“well, I need to prove that nothing is going on here.” Whizzer replied before lowering his voice “are you sure this is what you want, I am your worker and I will obey your every whim.”</p><p>In the light, that was reflected off of the large chandelier in the ball room, Mother seemed to sparkle, the trails of mascara adding a delicate, softer side to her that Whizzer had only ever seen once before. She smiled gently, “you must not stand him up.” She finished her drink, turning icy again, “I need proof of him making it with a man, things I can use...blackmail material.”</p><p>Whizzer turned, walking to the exit, “you want me to give it up on the first date, and photograph it? How scandalous.” He winked, stepping into the elevator, manually turning the handle until he reached the first floor, nodding to the man sat with his newspaper.</p><p>He pushed his back up against the secret door, and it swung open, Whizzer sidling casually out, closing it behind him as he searched the room for Marvin, the butterflies welling up as his gaze caught Marvin’s across the room.</p><p>He smoothed out his suit, walking around the bar until he reached Charlotte up on stage, whispering “Cordelia is not showing up, is she?” Into her ear as she nodded, an almost seductive look on her face as she played with the feather boa above her head, singing a high g with almost no effort as Whizzer kissed her cheek, earning loud catcalls from the audience. He shimmied behind the band, whispering something to the pianist who nodded, as Whizzer leant against the sleek black grand piano.</p><p>Charlotte finished her song, earning a polite applause from the audience and rolled her eyes as she swapped places with Whizzer, staggering off of the stage, getting another glass of champagne. “a poor audience” she said slightly too loudly as Whizzer tapped on the stand-up microphone, detaching the cylindrical head and going back to the piano, sitting temptingly on the top.</p><p>He breathed deeply, not used to being in front of an audience other than his bathing products. Running a hand through his hair, he looked up at the eye shaped window, Mother making crazy throat cutting gestures.</p><p>“This song- “He spoke into the microphone, his voice shaking slightly, “-this song is dedicated to… a special person in my life.” He looked into the bright spotlight, finding Marvin in the audience and winking as the pianist began to play the introduction to Fat Waller’s “squeeze me”, unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt just enough to expose his chest hair.</p><p>Suddenly all Whizzer could feel was the smooth lilt of the chromatic chords, the perfect pace that made him sway on the piano, when the tenor saxophone joined, the grace notes it added, light and beautiful. He brought the microphone to his lips, so close you could hear his quiet inhales as he started to sing, quietly to begin with.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, want to squeeze me, have mercy<br/>Baby, won't you tease me<br/>Come on and squeeze me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I like it when you tease me</em>
</p><p>He smirked as he heard the gasp from the audience, looking up to see Mother throwing her glass at the window, watching it make a small pane shatter as she scowled at him, backing away so no one could see her.</p><p>
  <em>Like the way you shake your thang<br/>Like the way you move<br/>Love the way you so casually<br/>Slide into the groove</em>
</p><p>His voice was thin and smooth, gracing each note in a teasing manner. In one smooth movement, he was lying on his stomach, reaching his hand out to take the pianists chin in it.</p><p>
  <em>You know, you take me so high boy</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t want to come down</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You don’t have to be shy baby</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As long as I’m around</em>
</p><p>He moved in, so close to the pianists face, only separating himself by the microphone as the man joined him, Whizzer singing a higher harmony effortlessly as their voices blended into one.</p><p>
  <em>Ooh, your love is so good</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can never love another</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I wish you would</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Not be so undercover</em>
</p><p>At that he snapped around, getting off of the piano and holding the microphone in one hand, and its cord in the other, playing with it seductively in his fingers as he struck a sexy pose, only focusing on Marvin now.</p><p>
  <em>Come on and squeeze me, have mercy</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Baby, won’t you tease me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Squeeze me </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I like it, I like it when you tease me</em>
</p><p>He could see Marvin beginning to fume, his jaw tightening and locking as he ground his teeth together, causing Whizzer to let out a feminine giggle.</p><p>
  <em>Squeeze me, say won’t you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Baby, won’t you tease me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Come on and squeeze me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Say baby, won’t you tease me</em>
</p><p>He placed the microphone back on its stand as his voice dropped back to a whisper for his final lines.</p><p>
  <em>Squeeze me</em>
</p><p>He didn’t break eye contact</p><p>
  <em>Tease me</em>
</p><p>Marvin’s face was bright red and angry</p><p>
  <em>Squeeze me</em>
</p><p>Anger is a powerful aphrodisiac</p><p>
  <em>Tease me</em>
</p><p>As he finished the hall erupted into a loud applause as he took his bow, quickly slipping offstage as he made his way to the secluded booth Marvin was sat in.</p><p>“you are late Mr Brown.” Marvin announced, whizzer slid onto the sofa opposite him.</p><p>He applied the faux innocence as he batted his long eyelashes, “I’m sorry detective, did you not like my little show?”</p><p>“three of my men have vanished this week, so please forgive me for being in a bit of a haste.” Marvin replied, sarcasm biting into Whizzer as he rolled his eyes.</p><p>“your men?” Whizzer asked. Marvin just scowled instead of entertaining Whizzer’s games. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out an envelope and slid it across the table to Whizzer. He unlaced the strings, carefully opening it and shaking out its contents onto the table. “ah, I presume these… were your men?” Whizzer smirked, watching Marvin inhale deeply.</p><p>“do you recognise them, have you seen them come here?”</p><p>“well, detective- “Whizzer elegantly pushed one of the grainy photographs forward with his middle finger, leaving it outstretched as he cocked his head to the side, “-the only people who come here not wanting to be found are the queers.” He leant so his back was pressed into the booth and spread his legs slightly “you chose this rather secluded booth, did you not detective?”</p><p>“what are you insinuating Mr Brown?”</p><p>“again, nothing of… importance.” He took his time speaking, each word accurate and powerful as if they had been scripted the moment, they touched his lips.</p><p>Marvin stared at him for a moment, nostrils flared in rage as he slowly replaced the photographs into the envelope, retying it again in a methodical manner. “your singer friend is rather beautiful; pity she is a black.”</p><p>“pity you are a racist, you are off the clock detective.”</p><p>“what does that have to do with anything?”</p><p>“oh, I am so terribly sorry- “Whizzer exclaimed in a fake apology, “-I thought your views only extended to the hours you work.”</p><p>“my views are my views.”</p><p>“and my views are mine.” Whizzer patted his jacket until he heard the crinkle of paper, pulling out his own envelope, mimicking Marvin’s previous move “I have had some of my… associates… follow you detective.” He drew out his words as he slid the envelope across the table.</p><p>Whizzer could see the blood drain from Marvin’s face as he opened the envelope, exposing several photographs of his own. “what… what are these?” He whispered; voice low so no one would overhear him.</p><p>“these?” Whizzer said playfully, a small giggle in his voice, reaching his hand out to point at the separate photos, “this is you in an area I have only ever seen homosexuals in-“ he pointed to the next one, “I believe this is you drinking in a speakeasy, which although is not incriminating on its own, pairing it with this-“ he pointed to the final image “-a photo of you following someone, who is so very obviously a sissy, into a lavatory, I feel I have quite the scandal brewing.”</p><p>Marvin clenched his jaw, breathing heavily as he quickly packaged the photos up again, turning a horrible green shade. “Are you blackmailing a detective, Mr Brown?” He asked, a shocked look on his face.</p><p>“Oh no my darling- “Whizzer reached out and almost ripped the envelope out of Marvin’s hands that were prized tightly shut, “blackmail is illegal detective, these- “He seductively licked the edge of the envelope, “-these are merely collateral.” He quickly whisked the envelope out of sight again, revelling in the look of fear on Marvin’s face, “you threaten someone in love- “he whispered menacingly, “-I threaten your whole world.”</p><p>Marvin sat in silence for a moment, wanting to take a swing at Whizzer’s smug face, trying to think of ways to get out of his situation before giving in. “what do you want Mr Brown?” He asked, suddenly looking years older in seconds, as though the world had suddenly been dropped onto his back.</p><p>“Oh, it is not what I want Detective- “Whizzer smirked, “-it is what I will get.” He relished the tables turning, feeling alive for the first time in a week as he played his games. “My employer, Mother, wanted me to whore myself out to you.” He cocked an eyebrow and Marvin flinched as Whizzer went to touch his face, “but now that I have already got you in the position that I want, maybe we can come to an agreement.”</p><p>“you son of a bitch! I knew it.”</p><p>“no darling, no you thought Cordelia worked for Mother. This is all quite amusing to watch reveal itself, do you not think?”</p><p>Marvin shook his head, laughing “I will get you someday Mr Brown.”</p><p>Whizzer snorted, firmly taking Marvin’s chin in his hand, “you are on a single strand of webbing and suddenly you believe that you are the spider. You cannot see the full picture yet, but I can, and Mother can. If you keep interfering, I will see to it myself that your strand is cut from its source. This fight is bigger than you and it is bigger than me, your best chances are to change your course.”</p><p>“but Mother…Mother is the villain here.”</p><p>“No. Mother is merely a woman trying pass an amendment for women to not be denied or abridged from voting on account of her sex. She believes that people should not be judged due to their sexual partner preferences, or their skin colour. Someday a man will wed another man and I, oh I will laugh detective.” He scoffed at Marvin, nodding to Charlotte across at the bar, who brought over a bottle of champagne and two glasses, “so if anyone is the villain here, detective, it is you.”</p><p>Whizzer poured two glasses, raising up his own in a silent toast to his achievements before taking a sip, letting the bubbles fuel the pit of greed and winning that was beginning to pool in the bottom of his stomach as he stared at Marvin, not even blinking, watching him take a sip from his own glass.</p><p>Then Marvin did something truly unexpected.</p><p>He let out a laugh. A cold, heartless laugh, smiling like a maniac.</p><p>“you know Whizzer, I was waiting for you to say something like that.” He said, a truly terrifying grin stretching over his thin lips.</p><p>Everyone around them began to screech and duck under tables as the sound of glass shattering echoed through the ballroom.</p><p>“what the fuck have you done?” Whizzer asked, a sudden panic on his face.</p><p>Marvin adopted an impression of Whizzer, reaching out and touching his palm to Whizzer’s face, “oh darling- “He said in an exaggerated high pitched nasally voice, “it is not what I have done, it is what <em>you</em> have done.”</p><p>A dismembered voice cut through Whizzer’s confusion as he tasted blood in his mouth. “I want everyone’s hands up. This is a raid."</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. it's the twenties, yabbah dabbah, ooh the twenties part 3 (final part)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this may not be the ending you expect, but I love it :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s the twenties, yabbah dabbah, ooh the twenties part 3 (final part)</p><p>
  <em>“what the fuck have you done?” Whizzer asked, a sudden panic on his face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Marvin adopted an impression of Whizzer, reaching out and touching his palm to Whizzer’s face, “oh darling- “He said in an exaggerated high pitched nasally voice, “it is not what I have done, it is what you have done.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A dismembered voice cut through Whizzer’s confusion as he tasted blood in his mouth. “I want everyone’s hands up. This is a raid.”</em>
</p><p>Whizzer instantly sank under the table, covering his ears as he heard the pounding footsteps and the shrieks of the guests, cowering in the corner. From his position, he saw Marvin, straighten his tie, standing up and reaching into his tuxedo, pulling a gun from his holster and lazily, he pointed it at Whizzer.</p><p>“get up.” He ordered, hand limp and loose as he closed one eye, peering into the barrel as though he was bored. Whizzer took one look at him, and scampered, trying to squeeze under the low sofa. “I said get the fuck up.” Suddenly Marvin pointed the gun straight at whizzer, a loud burst, then a bullet an inch away from his head.</p><p>Whizzer froze, breathing jagged and uneven, eyes unbelievably wide.</p><p>“sorry about that-” Marvin smiled as though he had not almost killed Whizzer, “hair trigger.”</p><p>Whizzer held his hands up and slowly he got up, eyes fixed on Marvin, “I have the photographs.”</p><p>“And I have proof that you work for Mother. Where is she?” Whizzer bit his tongue, watching as Marvin rolled his eyes before fingering the trigger. “you know how much pressure it takes to fire this gun?” He asked.</p><p>Whizzer shook his head, “I am sorry detective, but I have never been one for violence.”</p><p>“this is a .38 revolver, if I so much as touch- “He lightly pressed the trigger, shattering the bottle of champagne behind Whizzer “-the trigger, you are dead. So, where is Mother?”</p><p>Whizzer averted his gaze, watching the bar where Charlotte was being Man handled by one of the police officers and he lurched forward without meaning to, Marvin pressing the barrel of the gun into his stomach, digging it in as Whizzer’s arms were twisted behind his back, cuffed by another officer.</p><p>He was shoved forward, joining the band as they were searched, Marvin smirking at his chance to pat Whizzer down.</p><p>“ow get off- “Charlotte slurred as an officer slipped his hand down the front of her white dress, feeling the space between her breasts. She tried pushing him away, but suddenly the officer struck her in the face, and she fell off of her barstool as he took kicks at her, her snow-white dress blossoming with blood as Whizzer stood helpless, racist slurs being yelled at her as a few of the officers joined in.</p><p>They left her unconscious on the floor, bleeding, swollen and no longer beautiful anymore, as Whizzer watched, eyes filled with tears. She was no longer a woman either, instead, a thing, an object, a broken piece of her former self.</p><p>Marvin stood in front of the group, pacing up and down as he held his gun, stepping over Charlotte’s body. “where is Mother?” He asked them.</p><p>He was met with silence.</p><p>Marvin scoffed, nodding as he traced his teeth with his tongue. “alright.” He said quietly. Casually, he aimed the gun, firing it straight into the pianists forehead, “oops- “he said innocently, not even breaking Whizzers eye contact, “hair trigger.”</p><p>Around him, there was cursing, and shrieks and the saxophonist threw up, shaking his head as he covered the man’s body with his jacket. Whizzer almost couldn’t tear his eyes away from Marvin, quickly glancing over at the body and scrunched his eyes closed, angling his head upwards as he said a silent prayer.</p><p>“now, I am going to ask again.” Marvin said threatening Whizzer with a single look, “where is Mother?” He approached Whizzer, who had seemed to have shrunk all of a sudden, eyes still closed and muttering quietly under his breath. He flinched as he felt the cold metal of the gun on his cheek, opening his eyes and looking upwards as he blinked away tears, the smell of metal and blood thick in the air.</p><p>A feminine voice cut through the silence, “She is up there.”</p><p>Whizzer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Marvin stepped away, but it quickly became lodged back in his throat as he saw her. Blonde slightly curled hair, a pinstripe suit.</p><p>It all pieced together in an instant.</p><p>“Cordelia, you fucking sold us out you bitch!” He yelled before receiving a knee to the stomach, falling onto his knees.</p><p>She pointed to the door behind the bar, and the men started to enter it. Slowly, she sidled towards Whizzer, “my name is not Cordelia, I go by Poovie.” She lit a cigarette and took a long draw, “honestly Whizzer, I thought you were smarter than this.”</p><p>“Marvin.” They all turned their heads, and there she stood. Mother. This time her voice wasn’t octaves too high, this time her shoes weren’t flat, this time she did not look old. This time she looked powerful as she held her whisky glass.</p><p>“Trina?” Marvin whispered in confusion, taking an almost unnoticeable step backwards as he stared at his wife.</p><p>She scoffed at him, “It is Mother to you.” She said icily, “unhand Whizzer and please think twice before shooting dead my next pianist, it leaves an awful amount of mess for my staff to clean up.” She took a sip of her drink, clinking the ice cubes purposely against the side in time as she took several steps forward, her heels making sharp, confident clicks on the ballroom floor.</p><p>Marvin, still in a daze, didn’t do anything, just stared at the woman he had married long ago.</p><p>“oh, for goodness sake.” Mother rolled her eyes, rooting around in her diamond encrusted purse, before getting out the tiniest, diamond enamelled pistol, shooting one of the policeman directly in the head, “there, my dear husband- “Her voice was sarcastic as she addressed him, “-now we are even.” Instantly, the two other policemen on the floor drew their own guns, but Mother was just as unphased as before, taking yet another gulp of whisky, finishing the glass. “charlotte? Charlotte?” She called before finally noticing Charlotte’s body by her feet, “and my lead singer? Do you really want to see Whizzer up there every night, flirting with every man he sees? You are the jealous type after all.” She scoffed, going behind the bar and pouring her own drink before placing her gun and purse down, “now, let us do this without the weapons.”</p><p>The policemen all looked to Marvin, who was still in a state of shock after watching his wife kill someone.</p><p>“Jesus Christ Marvin, knock that fish gape off of your face and uncuff Whizzer.”</p><p>He shut his mouth blinking aggressively before placing his gun on the ground, gesturing to his officers to do the same as one of the men unlocked the handcuffs from behind Whizzer.</p><p>He instantly ran over to Charlotte, shaking her, “Lottie? Lottie?” She turned onto her side and Whizzer let out a sigh, kissing her forehead gently as he stood up, straightening out his suit, now crumpled and covered in blood. He paced towards Marvin, “what did I say earlier?” He asked in mock forgetfulness, “oh yes, I remember. You threaten someone I love; I threaten your whole world.” He lunged for Marvin.</p><p>Mother smacked the back of his head from behind the bar, “leave him be Whizzer.” She picked up the whisky and joined him on the other side.</p><p>“but- “</p><p>“So, husband mine- “She stalked towards Marvin, interrupting Whizzer who instantly shut his mouth, “what are you arresting me for?”</p><p>“too many things to list.”</p><p>“come on Marvin, what are the worst ones?” She asked, inches away from him as he squirmed.</p><p>“illegally running a speakeasy- “His voice dropped to a whisper as she ran a hand through his hair, “-this is not going to do anything Trina.”</p><p>Mother rolled her eyes, “Whizzer.” She snapped, turning to see him leaning elegantly against the bar in gay judgment. She nodded, and he took her place.</p><p>“why am I always the whore- “he whispered in Marvin’s ear as he trailed his finger down from the centre of Marvin’s chest down to his belt buckle, being discreet as he unbuckled it, Marvin’s breath increasing into his ear. “now, what are you arresting Mother for?”</p><p>Marvin almost fell apart, “three counts of kidnapping, torture and murder of police officers in the first degree.”</p><p>“thank you.” Whizzer whispered in his ear, going back to his place at the bar, rubbing his hands back and forward on his suit pants as though he had done something dirty.</p><p>“And what about you Cordelia, or Poovie. That is your real name, right?” Mother turned her attention to Cordelia, watching her intently as she tucked her hair behind her ear.</p><p>“what about me? How did you-”</p><p>Mother put her hand up to silence her, “I have been planning this for a long time, a very long time- “she took a sip of her drink, pacing back to Marvin, “I know exactly what each one of you will do next, I know exactly how this will end.” She stroked Marvin’s cheek, unlikely tears brimming in her eyes, “I will get the rope for what I have not done, but that will only add fuel to my fire, executing me will only make me a martyr, for you have never seen a live martyr.”</p><p>Cordelia quietly bent down, picking up Marvin’s gun as the look of anger on his face grew, not wanting him to get a hold of it.</p><p>“mother?”</p><p>Suddenly mother spun around, pointing to Cordelia “I took you in knowing you would betray me” She pointed at Whizzer, “I took you in knowing you could seduce my husband.” She pointed at Charlotte, spluttering on the floor “I took you in because you could add some humanity to Cordelia” finally she slowly turned to face Marvin, “and I married you because I needed to get my information. Do not get me wrong Marvin, I love you and I love Jason, but did you really believe I did not know you were a homosexual?”</p><p>“i-i- “he stuttered before staying silent.</p><p>She let a smile break her face, “you are all my pawns, but for the world to change this must happen.”</p><p>The loud crack echoed through the ballroom.</p><p>Mother fell to her knees as a bright red patch blossomed on her silver dress, still smiling even though her lips began to tremble. “you shot me.” She said as though it wasn’t a surprise, “I always thought it would be Marvin.”</p><p>Across the room, in Cordelia’s hands, was Marvin’s gun, her face suddenly filled with terror. She instantly dropped the gun and it went off again, the second bullet hitting Mother’s breast as she gasped.</p><p>“full round.” Mother whispered</p><p>Instantly Marvin was by her side, cradling her in his arms, “shh… you are going to be alright.” He clutched her, bringing her to his chest.</p><p>“I did not think it would feel this bad.” Trina whispered in his ear, “I thought I would be gone straight away.” She began to weep, ugly tears that could not be contained.</p><p>“someone call an ambulance!” Marvin yelled at no one, tears streaming down his face, tie wet from Trina’s blood.</p><p>“Marvin, I’m sorry.” She whispered</p><p>“what for?”</p><p>Trina laughed weakly “I- I don’t know.” She started to cough blood and Marvin held her even tighter to himself, inhaling her scent deeply, trying to ignore the metallic smell that made his stomach turn.</p><p>“how did you know this would happen?”</p><p>She smiled one final time, “I bought you that gun. hair trigger. I didn’t want to make you feel guilty” She brought her hand up to his face and stroked his hair. Her voice was so quiet, that even Marvin wasn’t sure if he heard what she said correctly, her phrase jumbled and incoherent as she slipped away from the plane of the living, “you and Whizzer, please. For me.”</p><p>Her hand fell to her chest and just like that, she was gone.</p><p>A martyr</p><p>One month later the nineteenth amendment became part of the U.S constitution, “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex."</p><p>
  <b>
    <strong>What I’m trying to say is A) vote if you can, no matter where in the world you are and B) FEMINISM </strong>
  </b>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. painting class part 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>couple things </p><p>A) comment if you have a request, PLEASE REQUEST STUFF!!</p><p>B) do y'all want any smut? idk bc I'm not a virgin (tmi) but I'm also not a gay man or a lesbian, and I don't exactly like writing Trindel stuff bc they're pure cuteness and I think SJB and Brandon Uranowitz have the cutest friendship ever. </p><p>COMMENT WHAT YALL THINK BC IF YOU WANT IT THEN I'LL DO IT!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Painting class</p><p>I always got jumpy on those Thursdays. it wasn’t exactly because I felt bad, don’t get me wrong, I did feel bad, but I didn’t feel horrible. I had been cheating on Trina for a month, thirty-one and a half days, seven hundred and fifty-six hours. Forty-five thousand three hundred and sixty-seven minutes.</p><p>I hadn’t been sleeping much, my guilt and anxiety fuelling my writing, also being a good way to avoid Trina. Sometimes Whizzer would come over, usually once or twice a week in the beginning, he would bring a floofy Frappuccino for both of us. I hated to admit it, but I grew to love them.</p><p>The sex gave me endorphins and it continued my cycle until I would collapse in a bar or in my apartment, most nights I would wake up alone, head on a table, but sometimes I would wake up to Trina’s face in mine and I would have a heart attack.</p><p>I got cagey when she came over now, scared she would find something of Whizzers, my apartment was always suspiciously clean once she left.</p><p>But that didn’t compare to the anxiety of going back to the college each week.</p><p>Whizzer told me once that he didn’t try to be monogamous and preferred when the other guy was in a relationship, stopped them from being as clingy, but that just made me worry more. He was manipulative, a whore, but I knew that if he had ever met Trina, he would tell her everything. Jealous of everyone, able to be anyone, had to have them all, couldn’t let anyone get in the way of what he wants.</p><p>It was always tricky, pacing through the halls on the Thursday, Trina clinging to my arm as I would duck out of the way every time I saw the blur of a figure. She would laugh as though it was a joke, but that just made the pit in my gut sink lower and lower.</p><p>And then, and then one day we bumped into him. Whizzer Brown. He was carrying stacks upon stacks of portfolios and different photographs and as Trina rounded the corner, he tripped over, his endearing clumsiness one of the many things that irritated me about him. He landed sprawled on the floor, the slippery plastic of the folders sliding out of his grasp as he looked up, a wicked smile on his face as he saw me.</p><p>“ah, you’re one of the couples that go to that painting class Cordelia runs!” he exclaimed, “Marvin and…” He trailed off, pretending he didn’t know her name.</p><p>“Trina. let me help you with that.” She was too sweet, way too sweet and I felt the helplessness bubble up inside me as I knew that all Whizzer was doing was leading up to an extraordinary reveal of some kind, maybe just dropping a few hints that would make Trina think about us.</p><p>“and what about you Marvin?” Whizzer asked.</p><p>I blushed as I realised I had just been standing there and quickly dropped to my knees, causing Whizzer to adorn a look saying, ‘that’s where you will be tonight’ and I quickly looked away. “about what?”</p><p>Trina replied in a surreptitiously sweet tone, “I was just saying that Whizzer has a really nice body, do you agree Marv?”</p><p>“um…” I made eye contact with Whizzer again, watching as he bit the skin on the inside of his cheek, his skin stretching over his cheekbones. “yeah of course. Must take a lot of courage to get up there.”</p><p>“oh, it’s nothing if you’re confident in your own skin. I’m modelling again tonight.” I could almost feel the smug stare bore into my skin as I weighed up how many ways I could commit suicide within the next five minutes, “I was just taking these to my car so I could mark them.”</p><p>He stood up as Trina picked up the final few loose papers scattered around, “oh, I’m sure Marvin will help you with that, won’t you Marv?”</p><p>It wasn’t a question it was an order, so I took the paper from her, “of course baby.”</p><p>Whizzer loaded several more portfolios into my arms and smiled brightly to Trina, “thank you so much, you are so sweet.” He looked at me pointedly before walking away. I pressed my lips to her cheek, trying to block my nose from her sweet scent that made me feel sick. I ran slightly to catch up with Whizzer. “what the fuck Marvin!” He hissed loudly once Trina was out of earshot.</p><p>“what!?”</p><p>“she’s beautiful, and- and sweet and you’re cheating on her!”</p><p>I raised my eyebrows shaking my head slightly, “and?”</p><p>“and?” His mouth dropped open, “and! Come on Marvin, don’t you feel guilty?”</p><p>“hmm… nope.” We reached his car and he stood awkwardly, “what are you doing?” I asked.</p><p>He locked his jaw, “my keys are in my pocket and I can’t reach them.” I smirked at him, reaching my hand into his back pocket and rooting around for them, watching as his face seemed to set harder and harder into stone. It was fun watching <em>him</em> squirm for a change. “Marvin!”</p><p>“got em.” I grinned, unlocking the car boot and dropping in my pile of portfolios and moving out of the way as I watched him bend over, sorting his own pile out. I smiled at the view of his ass, slowly taking a couple of paces forward and taking his waist with my hands, pressing myself into him and grinding on him slightly.</p><p>“come on Marvin, I’m not in the mood.” He said, standing upright and I nipped at his ear, biting on it slightly. “Marvin!” He spun around, staring at me with sincere eyes. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”</p><p>“What?!” suddenly I let go of him, taking a step backwards, he never gave me that kind of honest look, he would always play games.</p><p>He locked the car again, walking back into the college as he picked a packet of cigarettes out of the inner pocket of his zip up hoodie, shaking one out. He placed it between his lips, patting down his body before sighing as he realised he didn’t have anything to light it with. “The way you described Trina, I thought she’d be a bitch.”</p><p>“she is.”</p><p>“no, she’s perfect, she’s incredible, she’s… I’m going to tell her.”</p><p>“what? No, you can’t!”</p><p>“you’re hurting her!”</p><p>“it would hurt her more if you told her.” Suddenly Whizzer drew back from me, a look of repulsion on his face as he stalked away from me. I waited a moment, scared of what he was going to do, before following him into the class, taking a seat next to Trina at the front.</p><p>She grasped my hand tight and gave me an anticipating smile as Cordelia began talking to the class, Whizzer standing moodily in the corner, whispering to a girl I had never seen before.</p><p>“alright everyone, this is Whizzer, he’s modelled here before, and this is my girlfriend Charlotte!” The girl saluted. She was gorgeous, curvaceous and tall in her cutthroat shiny black heels with red soles, and a white silk dressing gown flowing over her elegant silhouette. Then I looked to Whizzer, and I realised exactly what I needed.</p><p>I watched him undress like he had done many times in front of me before, but this time methodically, not me ripping his shirt wide open, not him pulling out his belt from its loops in a single swoop. Instead he did it almost like a strip tease, speaking to Charlotte as he changed as though he wasn’t even bothered.</p><p>They ended up entangled on the futon at the front of the room, giggling as they talked, every now and again saying ‘no hetero’ before breaking out into fits of laughter again.</p><p>And for the first time, I actually tried painting the scene, not in detail, instead the smiles and laughs and how I really felt about Whizzer.</p><p>It ended up being a mess, not figures exactly but instead bright colours swooshing and blending together on my canvas, creating murky browns and awful greys. In some ways it mimicked my life exactly. A hot mess. One mistake followed by another and another and another.</p><p>I sighed, allowing myself a moment to forget Trina was there, letting the world melt away as I watched Whizzer help Charlotte into her robe, smiling sweetly. I couldn’t help but feel the hint of jealousy as I saw him so happy, sad that I wasn’t on the other end, wondering if that’s what it was like to be in a loving relationship.</p><p>“hey.” She cooed.</p><p>I was snapped out of my dream state by Trina snaking her arm around me again and kissing my cheek nuzzling into my shoulder. I accidentally rolled my eyes; it was more like a reflex now than anything else.</p><p>She trailed a finger up my shirt “so, I was thinking, we could go to your place…”</p><p>“I have syphilis.”</p><p>“what?” <em>Yeah, what the actual fuck, I know nothing about syphilis, where did that come from?</em> “but we use condoms and we haven’t had sex in… in- “she took a second to think about it, “a pretty long time!”</p><p>I pulled away from her slightly, trying to figure out how far I could take the lie, “well, I… it’s not just transferred sexually…” <em>IS IT BECAUSE I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE?</em> “I think I caught it at a party.”</p><p>She pulled away from me, her eyebrow in her hairline. “oh, can’t we still do… stuff?” she put her hand in my lap and I crossed my legs over one another uncomfortably.</p><p>“I would Trina, I really would, but It’s kind of painful.”</p><p>“oh.”</p><p>Maybe I do have a type, dumb, pretty and creative. Trina packed her handbag in silence, her jaw locked tight as I stared over to Charlotte, Cordelia and Whizzer, wondering if I could whisk Trina away fast enough to not have to deal with Whizzer.</p><p>Having nothing else to do, I listened in on their conversation, watching Cordelia hand over an envelope to Whizzer.</p><p>“thank you so much Cordelia, I really need this.” He said as he thumbed through a large wad of cash.</p><p>“how much are you going to be down this month?” Charlotte asked quietly as she caught my gaze, I quickly turned to Trina.</p><p>He sighed, “I’m about a hundred down, but I can’t keep this up. I haven’t really eaten in a couple days unless it was the leftovers at the cafeteria.”</p><p>Cordelia rolled her eyes, “this is on you, you fucking idiot.” She started washing out the acrylic paint from under her fingernails, “I mean, what kind of community college photography teacher decides to rent the most gorgeous apartment in this expensive ass city?”</p><p>Whizzer bent over, tying his shoelace, his voice going slightly nasal as the blood rushed to his head, “it was a steal.” He said sassily, “plus a sensitive artist such as yourself should understand where I’m coming from.” The trio cackled loudly as Whizzer was obviously joking “if I’m a couple twenties short I usually just sleep with the landlord, but I don’t think I can do it with over a hundred.”</p><p>Trina suddenly yanked the collar of my shirt, leading me to the trio.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear, Whizzer you were saying about your rent?” Trina asked as she let go of me, I straightened up, putting my hands on my hips. Whizzer rolled his eyes at me, and I could almost hear him say ‘and people think you’re straight’, I looked away.</p><p>“yeah, I’m not gonna make it this month, but I always land on my feet, hey! I could live at the school for a while!” He joked.</p><p>“I wish I could help, but I live with my parents and they’re really strict about guys.” Trina replied making a sympathetic face.</p><p>“oh, I’m gay.” Whizzer cut in as though it was obvious.</p><p>I almost snorted as I saw the flicker of terror on Trina’s face before it went back to her polite, now much tighter lipped smile. “you see, Trina comes from quite a… conservative family.” I pointed out, she nudged me hard, hard enough for me to almost lose my balance before Whizzer yanked me upright, me savouring the feeling of his hand digging into my bicep.</p><p>I laughed nervously at him as Trina flicked the back of my head.</p><p>“What about Marvin?” she said quietly.</p><p>I felt my life flash in front of my eyes as I ripped myself away from Whizzer, terror in my voice as I spoke, “what about me baby? you know I love you right, and that I’m straight.”</p><p>She giggled as though I was stupid, “silly billy, I love you too Marv.” She said, kissing my lips as the disdainful look crossed my face again. “what I meant was, why doesn’t he stay with you?”</p><p>I scrunched my eyebrows, “umm… babe? We’ve literally met three times; I don’t think I can ask a stranger to move in with me.”</p><p>“Trina, it’s really sweet of you, but I don’t think I can do that to Marvin.” Whizzer interrupted, looking slyly at me. “I have a… a specific lifestyle.”</p><p>I couldn’t help but snort, understanding Whizzer meant whoring around with whoever, whenever. Charlotte and Cordelia’s heads suddenly snapped towards me, then straight back to Whizzer before they communicated with that secret lesbian mind conversation that made me roll my eyes.</p><p>“well, you’d be helping Marvin out too.”</p><p>“sorry?” I asked snidely, turning to Trina, “what do you mean by that?”</p><p>She took my hand in hers, forcing her fingers into the unwelcoming gaps between mine, “I just mean that when I took you home the other day, after you collapsed at the library, I did some cleaning and came across some of your financial statements- “</p><p>I pulled my hand out of hers, hands back on my hips in my dominant position, “I told you to stop cleaning my apartment, it’s my own space, do I go to your parent’s house and clean it?”</p><p>“no.” she replied, submissively, “but that’s not the problem. Marv, your funds from your first book are running low and you refuse to take up a second job while you’re writing this one-“ she reached out, putting a hand on my shoulder “- if you want to keep your apartment, you should probably consider a roommate, and you know how my parents are about us getting married before we can live together.”</p><p>I watched Whizzer make a face out of the corner of my eye, hopefully getting what I meant about her being a psycho bitch, before I weighed my options.</p><p>“I guess I’ll think about it.” Was all I said, shrugging her hand off of my shoulder.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. the Fires</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This may have been the longest thing I've ever written you lucky buggers, or unlucky, depends how you look at it. This is kind of like 'the series of unfortunate events' but idk, haven't read those for a hot second. Anyways, I have thought of an idea for a new BOOK THING!!!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧  I'm super hyped, anyway, HOPE YALL ENJOY!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Have you ever felt that second of dread, the type that hurts your stomach and causes your mouth to go dry before your face goes as white as a sheet and you feel the dizziness set in, the same wooziness as if you stood up too fast.</p><p> </p><p>That was how I felt when I slammed the cab door shut. My lungs ached, as my heart raced, stomach flipping and turning as I was struck speechless when I saw my home, my gorgeous house with the large windows and the beautiful brickwork, now up in flames.</p><p> </p><p>The inferno sliced and licked its malicious tongues of fire at me, entrancing me in it’s beautiful vermilions and tangerines, as I coughed at the smoky air, my lungs thick and tight as I tried to breath.</p><p> </p><p>I tried to push my way through the crowd of my neighbours and bystanders all watching from behind police tape, but they seemed to be forming a barrier, telling me that I would regret seeing my home like that. But finally, I made it through, ducking under the tape.</p><p> </p><p>That was when I felt the spine shattering dread, the intense numbness followed by every single bad thing that had ever happened to me, all coming back to haunt me in a single moment.</p><p> </p><p>“sir, you can’t be here.”</p><p> </p><p>I turned to see a police officer approaching me, trying to escort me back behind the tape. “this is my house.” I manage to blurt out as he got closer, my voice hoarse and cracking from the thin bubble of soot that had formed around me, settling on the white shirt I wore.</p><p> </p><p>Soot is bad, that’s all I remember from chemistry lessons in high school, soot means carbon monoxide.</p><p> </p><p>The police officer reached me, taking out a tiny notepad and pencil as I just let my jaw fall open at the magnitude of the fire.</p><p> </p><p>The biggest I had seen by far, although this has been my biggest house.</p><p> </p><p>“you are the homeowner, correct?”</p><p>“yes, I bought it outright several years ago.”</p><p>“high paying city job?”</p><p>“no actually, I’m an artist, I recently ‘made it’ in the art world if you can believe that.”</p><p>“name, age?”</p><p> </p><p>My jaw clenched accidentally.</p><p> </p><p>“Sterling Pierce. I’m 26.”</p><p>“and you live alone?”</p><p>“correct.”</p><p>“where were you tonight.”</p><p> </p><p>I almost laughed to myself as he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“so, you think it’s arson, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“we need to rule out all possible causes, so where were you between seven and ten thirty this evening?”</p><p> </p><p>I smiled politely, “I was out on a date.” I’ve learnt over the years that it’s better to cooperate with them in the beginning, then flee, taking as much of my fortune with me as I can and start my new life.</p><p> </p><p>As the the police officer stared me up and down, I watched the house and suddenly I was struck with how perfect the timing of this all was this time. The radio on his hip started to go off. I have always wondered how the officers understood what the garbled voices were saying, it always seemed like gibberish to me.</p><p> </p><p>“it seems- “he began, a judgmental look on his face “-that the fire was started in the attic, where a lit cigarette set fire to the wooden floorboards that were soaked in some kind of painting solvent.”</p><p> </p><p>My eyes widened as I remembered earlier that evening, accidentally taking a sip from my mug filled with turpentine instead of coffee, and ended up dropping it, watching as it soaked into the hardwood floor.</p><p> </p><p>I hated him for the cigarettes. He came to pick me up for our date and left one out on the side, I always told him not to smoke in the studio, clients had complained of the work smelling like a cheap strip club. I would always pull the cigarette from his mouth, stub it out and throw it out of the window, as I would turn back around I would see another one already hanging out of his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“aww baby- “he would say as he kissed the back of my neck while I painted, tiny pieces of fire smouldering down onto my shirt “-let loose a little.” He was taller than me, which was rare, about six foot four, or six five. He was fine, he was fun, he wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but when he proposed I said yes.</p><p> </p><p>I should have known that he was one of them. He had an obsession with fire, they all did.</p><p> </p><p>“sir? Are you alright?” I felt the sweat drip from my brow, as It suddenly hit me.</p><p> </p><p>“my art- “I quickly took a step forward, getting close to the blaze, the heat causing my skin to crawl and burn “-I need my art.”</p><p> </p><p>He tried to pull me back, but I was in a trance as I picked my walk up into a run</p><p> </p><p>“Mr Pierce, it’s all gone.”</p><p>He slammed his body into mine, but it all felt fuzzy, everything was underwater, the harsh roar of the flames and the bluey tinge through the burnt down door of my house, hypnotising me.</p><p> </p><p>“all of it?” I managed to whisper as my body was pinned to the floor, but I couldn’t feel him kneeling on me, it was as though my mind didn’t match my body.</p><p> </p><p>“all of It.”</p><p> </p><p>That was when I realised it was different this time, that the singular painting that held the bonds my parents had left me was on fire.</p><p> </p><p>This time it would be hard to re make myself.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Three months later</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>I pressed the button by the door, the almost metallic buzzing shocking me as I quickly pulled away.</p><p> </p><p>“what do you want?” the disembodied voice snapped at me.</p><p> </p><p>I pushed my glasses up onto the bridge of my nose, “uh hi, I’m here to look at the apartment.”</p><p> </p><p>“oh.” He sounded irritated and slightly shocked and suddenly I heard the tell-tale click of the door opening. I took a quick glance of the piece of paper I had frantically jotted down the number of the apartment, and quickly, I went up the stairs. They were very narrow, dirty with black mould growing up the yellow peeling wallpaper. I held my breath instinctively until I reached this long corridor, slowly walking along until I reached number 5B.</p><p> </p><p>I took a deep breath, reaching my hand to the knocker when suddenly the door swung open.</p><p> </p><p>“name.”</p><p> </p><p>“Whizzer Brown.” It felt weird, the first time using a new name, it’s been three years, I had gotten too comfy. I had to change my look as well, the old eighties style glasses that kept slipping off of my face, slicking my hair back instead of letting it flop forward. The tight shirts that I would leave almost fully unbuttoned were now replaced with dorky suits that I couldn’t afford, suspenders that made me look like my father when he came home from work when I was a child.</p><p> </p><p>I put my hand out to shake the man in the doorway’s hands, he looked up from the clipboard he was holding at my hand and scoffed at it.</p><p> </p><p>“occupation?”</p><p> </p><p>“trader.” New city, new fake job. He looked at me as though I had said something unreasonable. “what?” I asked.</p><p> </p><p>“you could afford something nicer than this, you don’t need a roommate.” He replied, entering the apartment as I followed, slightly tentatively behind him.</p><p> </p><p>“I recently went through a divorce.” I lied, “ex-wife’s fucking me in the ass.” I glanced around the apartment, not a bad size for how cheap it was.</p><p> </p><p>“do you often have company over? Lady friends?”</p><p> </p><p>I cocked my head “didn’t I just say that I was married?”</p><p> </p><p>I inspected the kitchen as I waited for his response, “well you’re a wall street man, you people all usually have at least three mistresses and a prostitute you see on the regular.”</p><p> </p><p>I paused my search for a second “I guess I will be having company over.”</p><p>“okay good, because I will too.”</p><p> </p><p>Silence.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry, but I never caught your name.” I said in the awkward air that pursued, dipping my head into the bathroom as I pulled the shower curtain back from the bath.</p><p> </p><p>“Marvin, Marvin Feldman.” He replied, “now, I’ll probably not bother you much during the day, and don’t get worried if I’m not here for a couple days.”</p><p> </p><p>“where will you be?” I asked curiously.</p><p> </p><p>“out.” He snapped. I guess he’s a private person. “if you have company, don’t worry about noise, the bedrooms were soundproofed in the thirty’s, but my one rule is, your girl, you clean out the drains, got it.”</p><p> </p><p>“the likelihood of that happening is quite small.” I muttered to myself.</p><p>“what was that?” he asked.</p><p>“nothing.”</p><p> </p><p>He stared me up and down and I suddenly got the urge to rip off his clothes, I don’t know why, I didn’t really find him attractive. He had a dad bod, a wedding ring and the apartment was incredibly clean as though he was either never there, or a serial killer. But Ted Bundy was hot, right? Maybe I could have one last fuck before I’m killed.</p><p> </p><p>“so, would you like to take the apartment?”</p><p> </p><p>I looked around it a final time, it was probably the best I could get with the little money I had until the insurance investigators had finished their case against me. And if this man was being honest about not being here often, in theory, it was the perfect situation.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll take it!” I exclaimed.</p><p> </p><p>“good, because you’re the only applicant and my wife was really getting pissy about me still owning the place.”</p><p> </p><p>I don’t know why but he seemed slightly superficial</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>I moved in straight away, a single suitcase, the only thing I had to unpack.</p><p> </p><p>It was odd living with Marvin, in fact for the first week I didn’t see him at all. I was unemployed, but art was my life, so I turned my bedroom into my old studio, buying oil paints, turpentine and canvases with the final dollars I had. I knew I needed another source of income though, but I decided to wait, putting off my job search until I received news from the insurers.</p><p> </p><p>One night, I met someone in a bar, I remember him being tall and muscular, he was a fireman or something.</p><p> </p><p>We always revert back to fire.</p><p> </p><p>I brought him home that night, clumsily kissing him as my back hit the apartment door. He pulled my ass into his crotch as I tried to open it, hands fumbling with excitement and we almost fell to the floor as it opened.</p><p> </p><p>But instantly I knew something was up when I noticed the lights on, and I detached myself from the guy.</p><p> </p><p>Sat in one of the chairs at the small dining table, reading a book, was Marvin.</p><p> </p><p>He looked up at the pair of us with an almost unrecognisable expression, not shocked, not angry, but definitely not blasé about it all.</p><p> </p><p>Then he looked back down to his book and the guy pulled me towards my bedroom. But all I thought of was Marvin as he put his hands over my body.</p><p> </p><p>I was about to kick the guy out after we finished, but he was already asleep, so instead I put on a pair of underwear and went back out into the living room, grabbing sketchbook and some charcoal. To my horror, Marvin was still sitting there, nose still in his book.</p><p> </p><p>“didn’t sound like you were having much fun.” He said without looking up as I sat opposite him, wincing at the pain in my ass.</p><p> </p><p>I froze looking like a doe caught in headlights “I thought the bedrooms were soundproof!”</p><p> </p><p>“well that only works if you close the door.”</p><p> </p><p>“fuck, I’m sorry.” I replied, eyes fixed on him, “what gave it away?”</p><p> </p><p>Marvin finally looked up, “your moans were way too feminine.” He said quickly, “also, it seemed kind of short.”</p><p> </p><p>“god! I know. He almost came from me sucking him off. “Marvin looked down at his book, face slightly blushed, “I’m sorry, is this too much information for a straight guy?” I asked sincerely.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly from the other bedroom, I saw the door open and a man come out.</p><p> </p><p>My jaw dropped to my feet.</p><p> </p><p>“hey babe.” He said as he approached us, his figure was very feminine, and he strutted over as though he was wearing high heels. He planted himself on Marvin’s lap, looping an arm around his neck. “who’s this? Did you get us a third?”</p><p> </p><p>My jaw dropped even further to the first floor.</p><p> </p><p>“no, this is Whizzer, he’s the new roommate I was talking about. Whizzer, this is Adam.”</p><p> </p><p>“well, Whizzer, it’s nice to meet you.” The man, I guess Adam, said to me before turning back to Marvin. He kissed him deeply and I watched as the book slipped out of Marvin’s hands and onto the floor.</p><p> </p><p>I stared awkwardly for a moment before trying to avert my eyes, but like a car crash, I couldn’t seem to look away.</p><p> </p><p>Adam got off of Marvin’s lap and strutted to the door, “ciao babe, and whizzer, you’re hot, come join us sometime. “He winked at me as though he knew something about me that even I didn’t know. My jaw was on the ground floor as Adam lit a cigarette, blew a kiss and left.</p><p> </p><p>“what the fuck?”</p><p> </p><p>“you do not have to join us.” Marvin made it clear</p><p> </p><p>“what the fuck?”</p><p> </p><p>“Imma break up with him soon, he irritates me.”</p><p> </p><p>“what the fuck?”</p><p> </p><p>“okay?” He picked up his book off of the floor, opening it on the page he had left it off of and opened it, beginning to read again.</p><p> </p><p>“what the actual fuck?”</p><p> </p><p>Marvin sighed, putting down his book again and stared over at me. “let’s play a game. A question for a question.”</p><p> </p><p>I clapped my mouth shut and weighed my options; I could always lie.</p><p> </p><p>“fine.” I said, cocking my eyebrow. “what do you want to know?”</p><p> </p><p>“wife?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>I stared him dead in the eye directly across the table “made up. Wife?”</p><p> </p><p>“cheating.” He replied, “job?”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you, trader.”</p><p> </p><p>“no, you’re not.”</p><p> </p><p>“yes I am.”</p><p> </p><p>“judging by the art supplies in your room, you aren’t. Plus, you seem kind of sensitive.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not sensitive!” I objected.</p><p> </p><p>“yes, you are! Okay, top or bottom?”</p><p> </p><p>“bottom. job?”</p><p> </p><p>“lawyer. Who’s the guy?”</p><p> </p><p>“met him at a bar. Ever had a menage?”</p><p> </p><p>“who the fuck calls it a ‘menage’? and yes.” He pushed his book away, “what happened to your last home?”</p><p> </p><p>“well there was a- How do you… what do you…?” I felt the realisation wash over my body, quickly, I leapt up suddenly backing away from him, “you work for them!” I pinned myself up against the wall, terror in my stomach as I was overwhelmed by the people who had chased me for years having finally found me. He got up, putting his hands forward as he backed away from me.</p><p> </p><p>“hey, it’s okay- “he slowly rooted through the cabinet by the kitchen counter as I bolted for the door, “-this is you right?” </p><p> </p><p>The doorknob was jammed, and I turned to look over my shoulder, expecting to see a lighter and gasoline. Instead I saw a newspaper, a photo of my gorgeous house up in flames, and a blurry photo of me.</p><p> </p><p>“what the fuck?” I cautiously approached him, reading through the article. “no, no, no, no, no!” I exclaimed.</p><p> </p><p>“so, what’s your real name?”</p><p> </p><p>I looked up from the paper, eyebrow sky high, “what?”</p><p> </p><p>“sterling pierce? Whizzer Brown?”</p><p> </p><p>“Whizzer. You have to call me Whizzer.” I tried reading the rest of the article, but all the words seemed to merge together.</p><p> </p><p>“so, a secluded artist whose previous residence has burnt down, but they’ve seemingly re made themself.” He said as he moved towards me, “what else do I not know about you Whizzer Brown?”</p><p> </p><p>I stalked up to the drawer, fumbling through other news clippings that were in it, “what the fuck, why do you have all of these?” I pulled out a ball of red wool and I almost laughed at how cliché it was.</p><p> </p><p>He made a face, “I pulled it all down when I put the ad in the paper.” He said, as he began to take out the clippings, pinning them one by one onto the wall, creating a spiderlike pattern with the yarn. “I had to work a case, a fire that killed a family of three, the youngest child managed to survive, she was seven.” He continued pinning up the photos, changing the order every now and again. “I looked into the family for evidence as to why it wasn’t a murder suicide, but I found these links, a society of families, each one with an obscene amount of fire in their past.” He rooted through the cupboard; eyes fixed on me this time. “I needed to find someone from one of the families, but they were all underground, there was no way of finding them… and then I found you.”</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly the false sense of security burst around me as I saw the cold metal barrel of the gun pointed at me.</p><p> </p><p>“now, sit down and tell me everything.”</p><p> </p><p>My mouth went dry and I licked my lips, trying to bring some moisture to my mouth as I backed up. “I… why the gun?” my voice was harsh with rasp as I slowly followed his gesture back to the table, trying not to make any sudden movements, not sure how trigger happy he was.</p><p> </p><p>“because I’ve been looking for you for a long time, now that I’ve found you, I am not letting you get away.” Not menacing in the slightest. I sat down and he sat opposite me, this time I could feel the smooth wood of the table against the calloused tips of my fingers from where I had tried scrubbing the paint off “now I just want to make it clear, I am not going to injure you fatally, but if you try and escape, I will shoot you in the foot.” He stated, very plainly.</p><p> </p><p>He passed me a case file that he had taken from the drawer. “okay- “he put the gun down on the table and for a moment I wondered if I was fast enough to leave, my dream was shattered almost instantly “- do you know these people?”</p><p> </p><p>I looked him in the eye before looking at the photographs. “no, but my parents did.”</p><p> </p><p>“did?”</p><p> </p><p>“they’re dead”</p><p> </p><p>“let me guess, fire?”</p><p> </p><p>I nodded “died in a fire when I was sixteen while I was off in the French boarding school they had sent me to.” For a brief second I could smell the sickly-sweet roses in the headmasters office as he told me the news. “I hated it at the time, but they did it to protect me. How did you find out I was involved?”</p><p> </p><p>“took a long time, this is very complex, my wife thinks I’m obsessing over it too much.”</p><p> </p><p>“you are. If you dig, worse things will happen. Have you ever watched Antrum?” I asked. He shook his head and I let out a dark chuckle. “it’s about a pair of siblings who dig a hole to hell to get their dog back.” I felt the usual goosebumps form on the back of my neck like they usually did when I thought about it, “each time they dig further, more and more dark, satanic things happen, yet the pair are still oblivious. You are digging into something you don’t understand. Do you have a family?”</p><p> </p><p>“a wife and child.”</p><p> </p><p>“then you must stop digging. For their sake.” I leant back in my chair, thinking of my house up in flames.</p><p> </p><p>“do you know who they are?”</p><p> </p><p>I shook my head, “my parents did, all the originals did, but I was flung into it all of a sudden. I’ve been piecing it together ever since, but each time I find someone new to help me…” I trailed off, not even needing to finish the sentence as he instantly understood me. “how did you find me?”</p><p> </p><p>“I have a map of all the fires in the city, the most recent one had the photo of you, and I could’ve sworn that I had seen you before. You have a very striking face.” I blushed, unsure whether it was a complement or not, “So I checked through all of my resources, everything, until I came upon this.”</p><p> </p><p>He handed me a photo I had seen almost every single day of my life for ten years.</p><p> </p><p>“how did you get this?”</p><p> </p><p>The final photo of me with my parents, bright beaming smiles that showed how similar I was to them. A photo burnt in the final fire, a photo I had never shown to anyone.</p><p> </p><p>“I found it on the sidewalk just outside.”</p><p> </p><p>I had it framed and put it next to my bed after the first fire. In the beginning, it was painful to look at it, the tears falling instinctively every single time I saw it.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve never been around here before.” The chills ran down my spine, a single tingle of electricity pulsing from my core outwards, feeling it spark into my fingertips as I suddenly looked up. “someone’s planning something.” I got up, running to my room, forgetting about the man sleeping in my bed, forgetting about the gun, before packing up the most important things I owned, photographs, enough clothes to remake myself again, fake passports. I packed it all.</p><p> </p><p>It only took me a couple of minutes, but I was back out in the living room, throwing down the luggage on the floor as I flurried around the room.</p><p> </p><p>“you need to leave too.”</p><p>“what?”</p><p> </p><p> I stopped, putting my hands on my hips, breathing deeply from my stomach, rubbing my bare chest. “shit, clothes.” Quickly, I opened the suitcase, pulling out a black shirt, buttoning it up quickly, black pants and the black jacket that went with it. Sleek. Dark. “if they know where I am, then they’ll smoke me out.” I said urgently, “if you’re still here, you’ll go down too.”</p><p> </p><p>“what?”</p><p> </p><p>“you need to leave. They know where you live, they knew you were getting close to them- “  </p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine here- “</p><p> </p><p>“no, you fucking aren’t. I’ve been running from them for ten years- “Suddenly I began choking back my sobs, keeping it in for years has begun to take its toll on me, looking older than I should be, my lungs hurting during exercise after all of the smoke I’ve inhaled over the years. “-I haven’t had a chance to breath, to do things a normal kid should’ve done, I was happy for three years! Three god damn years before the only guy I trusted and <em>loved</em> turned out to work with them. I was going to marry him! I was comfy, I thought I could live that life forever.”</p><p> </p><p>His face softened, “your fiancé burnt down your house?”</p><p> </p><p>I nodded, “The only thing I didn’t like about him was his smoking, I should’ve known.” I bit the skin on top of hand to quiet my sobs, “I should’ve known.” I whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin stood awkwardly opposite me, the only sounds being the tiny whimpers that came from my mouth every now and again. “do you want me to call my wife, she’s good with feelings and shit.”</p><p> </p><p>I let out a tiny giggle.</p><p> </p><p>I’m not sure how, but he managed to convince me to stay. Maybe things would have been different if I hadn’t.</p><p> </p><p>He lived in the apartment with me for that week, I didn’t see Adam or whoever he was and most of the time we just sat in silence at his dining room table, me trying to find any ways to scrape pennies together. I sold my paintings out on the stoop, I dyed my hair a dirty blonde, always wore these sunglasses I had nicked from the corner store, and I kept on my toes, observing, watching people who passed.</p><p> </p><p>And for a week, I thought it was a false alarm, that the unexplainable photograph was an accident, a false sense of security settling around me, like the way antelope graze in the savannah whilst the lions watch in the grass, teeth sharp and pointed, poised, ready to pounce.</p><p> </p><p>You never get used to the smell of smoke waking you up.</p><p> </p><p>I think he loved me enough to skip our date to set the fire.</p><p> </p><p>He was gorgeous, that was what drew me to him initially, then I trusted him. I trusted him because he let me have my space, didn’t push me to talk about my family. I guess that was because he already knew all about my parents.</p><p> </p><p>The betrayal was painful at first, I spent the first two months crying, eating ice cream and watching dirty dancing in a motel room. But then I realised that he loved me, that he really did. Usually they would set the fire as soon as my cover was burnt, whether that meant I was at home or out. He knew about me since the day we met in that bar, it was no accident, but he waited until I was out of the house until he set it.</p><p> </p><p>He waited.</p><p> </p><p>The night of the fire, he stood me up on our date. No text, no call, nothing. I was fuming, hailing a cab and frantically trying to get in touch with my fiancé.      </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t pick up the phone.</p><p> </p><p>I haven’t spoken to him since he picked me up for that date, dropped me off at the restaurant and told me he had one little thing to take care of.</p><p> </p><p>His last words to me were, “hey baby, don’t look so sad. I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I love you too.” A quick peck on the lips, a smile as he got back into his car.</p><p> </p><p> Then he was gone as though he was never there, the only things remaining were the flames he set in his wake.</p><p> </p><p>You never get used to the smell of smoke waking you up. Coughing, spluttering as your eyes can’t focus on the room. Your lungs sting as they fill up with smoke, and the timer that hangs over your head begins, counting down the minutes until you die in the most painful way possible.</p><p> </p><p>I panicked as I took too deep of an inhale into my nose, eyes stinging as I burst into fits of coughing, only making it worse. I pulled off my duvet and fell to the floor, feeling on my hands and knees for something, anything. My hands grasped forward and my fingers clutched at some soft fabric, I quickly ripped it apart, taking the sleeve of what I can only assume was a t shirt and stuffed it over my mouth and nose.</p><p> </p><p>The splinters from the wooden floorboards were painful on my hands, but the adrenaline was enough to keep me going, feeling around for the door, looking for the thin strip of light that cut through the smoke. I reached up, trying to find the handle and yelled out as I felt the burning hot handle. The sharp inhale I took caused me to splutter, the timer above my head speeding up.</p><p> </p><p>I gritted my teeth, scrunched my eyes closed, bracing myself, before opening the door, the handle scorching and burning my flesh, the revolting smell of barbequed human causing me to gag as I sprinted to the front door.</p><p> </p><p>I suddenly stopped, quickly turning back around as my heart dropped into my stomach.</p><p> </p><p>“fuck.” My voice was raspy, and it hurt as I yelled out for him, “Marvin? Marvin?”</p><p> </p><p>I was stuck, staring back and forth from my way out and Marvin’s bedroom, I bit my cheek and ran straight for Marvin’s door, ramming into it.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t budge.</p><p> </p><p>I rammed it again, adding my shoulder to the list of things that hurt, and finally dropped the cloth, kicking down the door.</p><p> </p><p>I couldn’t see anything at first, just the intense heat of the fire and the smoke billowing towards me. I closed my eyes as the smoke clouded my vision, the salty tears streaming from them. The smell suddenly overwhelmed me and instantly I threw up.</p><p> </p><p>Then I saw him.</p><p> </p><p>I couldn’t really see <em>him</em>. Instead I saw what used to be him.</p><p> </p><p>Instead I saw a monster that I couldn’t even recognise.</p><p> </p><p>A writhing body on the bed. Black and bright pink crumbling flesh, cracking and peeling back to expose blood, silent screams of a nightmare as his body and most of the room was engulfed in flames.</p><p> </p><p>I panicked, not sure what I was doing as I stood frozen on the spot.</p><p> </p><p>Terrified.</p><p> </p><p>The only thing I could do was blink as I tried to escape it, numb as though I was watching a tv screen playing the moment.</p><p> </p><p>And then I heard Marvin scream and I snapped, grabbing a blanket, fanning his flaming body, until I saw them roar and grow. I looked around the room, but I couldn’t see anything through the smoke. I tried to smother the flames, but even as the lightest blanket touched his skin, he made an animalistic noise, one that sent shivers down my spine.</p><p> </p><p>So, I hauled his body into my arms, tears streaming down my face as I heard his cries and screams, the flames that were somehow still burning him, spreading to my clothes as my knees buckled underneath the weight of both our bodies, his contorting in a demonic way.</p><p> </p><p>I was outside, not even sure how and I gently put down his body on the sidewalk, the juxtaposition of his burning body lying in a puddle as the rain pooled around his body, the singeing sounds of his burning flesh being hit with the water suddenly brought me back to real life and I began to hyperventilate, coughing aggressively.</p><p> </p><p>“SOMEONE, SOMEONE CALL 911!” I yelled into the empty street, looking upwards as the glass windows shattered from the heat. I dove over Marvin’s body and he groaned in pain, his eyes flickering closed. “I’m so sorry.” I whispered. “for everything.”</p><p> </p><p>The glass dug into my back, but I couldn’t feel it, knowing what was about to happen.</p><p> </p><p>“it was Adam.” He gurgled quietly out as I could hear the sound of shouts from the other apartments.</p><p> </p><p>The flames were finally dying down on his body, but he was almost unrecognisable, all hair burnt off, his skin, black and mangled, but his eyes, his eyes were the same.</p><p> </p><p>“he doused me with gasoline and set the fire.”</p><p> </p><p>I laughed shakily, trying to make him comfortable on the hard-concrete floor, his eyes drifting off out of focus before he brought them back, trying to stay awake. “I guess you shouldn’t have dumped him.” I joked, knowing it was all my fault.</p><p> </p><p>I watched his pain-stricken face relax.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>I suddenly woke up, shivering, the image of Marvin’s final breath stealing into my thoughts even though I now couldn’t picture his face. It was as though I could see him, but he was ever so slightly blurry, the details fading until I would be left with just the monster.</p><p> </p><p>“fuck.” I whispered to myself, rubbing my arms to warm them up.</p><p> </p><p>“hey, hey.” I rubbed my eyes as I felt them well up with tears, the voice relieving me as I looked over to my husband. “you okay?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>A warm smile was on his face and I laughed slightly, “I just had a bad dream.” He gave a me look, and I shoved him lightly, “hey, don’t look at me like I’m a kid!”</p><p> </p><p>“you had a <em>bad dream; </em>kids have bad dreams.” He laughed.</p><p> </p><p>I couldn’t help it, but I tried to supress my bright smile, not wanting him to get cocky.</p><p> </p><p>“hey Whizz, I love you.” He said quietly.</p><p> </p><p>I smiled gently, running my finger along his jawline “I love you too Marv.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. balcony</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't know why, but I thought this was cute- wrote it at midnight last night and is unedited.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“who’s coming?” The tall man with chiselled features asked, approaching the mirror as he massaged moisturiser into his face, frowning at the quickly forming bags underneath his eyes.</p><p>The slender girl with long limbs and blonde perm looked up from doing her eyeliner.</p><p>“oh, you probably know them all.” She replied, pulling down her lower lash and jabbing the pencil into her waterline.</p><p>The man rolled his eyes “so… that means no one I know.” He took a swig from the bottle of vodka he was carrying and made a sour face. He decided he may as well start drinking now, being at a party with no one you know always ends up with the biggest mistakes, whether you have fun leading up to them or not, is your choice.</p><p>“yup, too late to back out now.” She pulled away from the Mirror, “come here, I wanna do yours.”</p><p>“my eyeliner?”</p><p>“yeah, what else you dick.”</p><p>“I mean, I’m already gay enough as it is- “the vodka buzzed slightly through his system, “-eh whatever.” He replied, sitting in front of the girl. He closed his eyes and tried to relax as he felt the thick, crayon like texture of the pencil on his eyelid and the slight fluttery feeling from the girls breath brush delicately on his face. “maybe I’ll meet someone tonight.” He whispered.</p><p>“yeah, it’s about time!” She giggled, “we’ve been here for two years, and I have never once met anyone you’re dating!”</p><p>“that’s because I’m too busy, I need to keep my grades up, and work...”</p><p>“come on man! When was the last time you had sex, or got drunk, or did anything fun with me?” she cut him off, switching to the other eye.</p><p>“Delia, the last time I had sex was…” he paused for a second, shaking his head, “the last time I got drunk was… oh fuck me.”</p><p>“see- “Cordelia giggled “-you literally just proved my point. If you don’t get laid tonight, then I’ll fuck you myself.”</p><p>“well that doesn’t sound fun considering I faint when I see a vagina.”</p><p>“yeah man, you need to get over that.”</p><p>“also, boobs? What do people find so appealing about them?”</p><p>Cordelia stood up, admiring her work “they’re soft and squishy, I’m not explaining this to you when you like penises.”</p><p>“hey! penises are attractive in no means, it’s the guys they’re attached to, they’re the attractive ones.”</p><p>“ew, men.” Cordelia said, gagging slightly. She got up, patting the man’s head as she went to put down her makeup bag on her bedside table, “but in all truthfulness Whizzer, you’re probably gonna explode if you don’t have sex soon, so find a guy, doesn’t matter if he’s gay or not, and with enough alcohol, he’ll have sex with anyone.”</p><p>“gee, thanks.”</p><p>“you know what I mean, especially since you exude mega bottom energy.”</p><p>She checked the time on her phone and rummaged in her drawer for the right purse, pulling out a black sparkly one that matched her super mini black dress that was dotted with embellishments making it look like she wore stars.</p><p>“okay, how do I look?” Whizzer asked, turning to her, “oh damn girl- “he said softly, “-you look amazing.”</p><p>“thanks Whizz.” Cordelia replied, blushing a bright pink as she hid behind her hair, “the pink really suits you.” She added, staring at how far down Whizzer had left the pink shirt unbuttoned, and how the high waisted trousers he wore, accentuated the length his legs really were. “okay- “Cordelia said, snapping out of her daze “we’re fashionably late, you have the vodka, I have the beer, let’s go!”</p><p>On the way out, Whizzer swung around the door, grabbing his black leather jacket as Cordelia began talking his ear off in her normally bubbly fashion.</p><p>“you know I heard this was gonna be the biggest party of the year?”</p><p>“I did hear that, from you no less.”</p><p>She scowled at him as they jogged down the stairs. “have another shot of vodka.” She ordered, “you need to loosen up a little.” Whizzer rolled his eyes, but followed her directions, pausing in the stairwell to pour a capful of the clear liquid. “anyway, the girl who invited me, she’s so cute, well I’m planning on making out with her later.”</p><p>“excited for you.”</p><p>“thank you, thank you. You have your eye on anyone?”</p><p>Whizzer shook his head, “I told you, I have no time for this relationship shit.”</p><p>“one-night stand?”</p><p>“I mean, anyone goes right? God I haven’t had sex in so long.”</p><p>“what if they’re into some really kinky shit?”</p><p>Whizzer made a face, “like what?” he asked, opening the door for Cordelia as they exited the building, “also I can see through your dress.”</p><p>“that’s why I’m wearing my nicest underwear.” Cordelia giggled. In the low light, her blonde, puffy hair created a halo around her head, making her look angelic as she skipped a few metres ahead of Whizzer. “what’s the weirdest thing you’ve done in bed?” she asked.</p><p>“meh, I was with this guy once who was kinda hot in a murdery way, made me crawl to the bedroom over these planks of wood that had splinters and he only fucked me from behind, kept calling me a slut and shit. It’s not that crazy, but he ruined my nicest shirt with his cum. What about you?”</p><p>“I dunno, I was once pegged, which I guess you’re used to.”</p><p>“it’s a weird feeling.”</p><p>“super weird.”</p><p>Suddenly Cordelia raised her voice, singing operatically to the path ahead of them, dancing as though she was in Mary Poppins as she leapt around lamp posts.</p><p>Whizzer kept hushing her, scared that they would disturb people, but Cordelia just giggled, taking Whizzer’s chin in her hand and saying “come on Whizz! Lighten up a little.”</p><p>And before Whizzer knew it, he wasn’t in control of his body anymore, dancing with strangers, drinking god knows what, and finally managed to stop the world from spinning long enough, to find himself in a circle in the tiny bedroom of the apartment.</p><p>Watching the pale green bottle spin around, rooting for it to land on Cordelia and the girl she kept pointing out to him. Only fragments of the game stuck with him, kissing some girl who had been swooning over him all night, a more passionate kiss with a guy he had seen around once or twice in his English class, when finally, he was able to cheer for Cordelia and the other girl making out, Cordelia quickly grabbing her hand and leaving, the girl trailing behind her.</p><p>That was when Whizzer sobered up all of a sudden, being stuck at a party with no one he knew, but not ready to leave yet, time going in slow-motion, stilling and finally stopping as he looked around for someone, anyone he knew.</p><p>But he saw no one.</p><p>He walked through the rooms, searching the crowds for a familiar glimpse of a face, when finally, he realised it was no use, making his way to the bathroom.</p><p>Inside, he could hear a couple having sex, but he waited, the noises becoming jarring and painfully uncomfortable to listen to.</p><p>It didn’t last very long before they were already out again, making out as they pulled each other back to the dance floor.</p><p>Whizzer sat on the toilet lid for several minutes, building up the courage to face the party again, before he heard yelling from the outside, too soon. So, he quickly left, the smell of alcohol and vomit bombarding him as he ran to the roof, trying to find a place he could sit down and stop the world from spinning. </p><p>He hung his head over the balcony, digging his fingers into the ivy that hung down it as he tried to steady himself, distracting himself from the fact that he felt like utter shit.</p><p>“hey there mister- “He opened his eyes as he heard the yelling from below him “-you know you’re gorgeous?” Whizzer blushed, staring down at the man standing below, his voice was slurred and almost unintelligible, but somehow he was still managing to hold a certain grace about him. “what’s your name pretty boy?”</p><p>Whizzer laughed, “I’m not telling you my name, you wouldn’t remember it anyway.”</p><p>“of course, I would remember it, with a face such as yours.” Whizzer leant over the balcony even further. “Has anyone ever told you, you could be an angel?”</p><p>“ah well, maybe you’re only seeing me because you’re dead.”</p><p>That prompted some confusion to the man below, as he stumbled forward slightly, almost falling over. “well then, I shall just have to call you Juliet.”</p><p>Whizzer laughed obnoxiously, “if you can quote me a single line from Romeo and Juliet in your state, maybe I’ll tell you my name.” he bet, rolling his eyes at the man.</p><p>“O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night, being o’er my head as is a winged messenger of heaven.”</p><p>Whizzers jaw dropped open, before he replied, “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name- “</p><p>“call me but love, I’ll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.” Marvin sang up to the balcony, making over the top gestures as he almost fell over.</p><p>Whizzer giggled, “my ears have not yet drunk a hundred words of that tongue’s utterance, yet I know the sound: Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?”</p><p>“with loves light wings did I o’er-perch these walls; for stony limits cannot hold love out and what love can do that dares love attempt; Therefor thy kinsmen are no let to me.”</p><p>Whizzer smiled down at the man. “I’m Whizzer Brown.”</p><p>“Marvin Feldman, O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”</p><p>Whizzer giggled slightly, adopting a coy smile, “what satisfaction canst thou have to-night?”</p><p>“let’s get out of here.” Marvin said, raising his eyebrows in a flirty way.</p><p>Whizzer smirked, “wait for me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. I never wanted to love you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The inky black of the night and the bitter cold Mr whippy like texture of the air were the only things that kept Whizzer from just finding a park bench and curling up on it, using the suitcase as a pillow.</p><p> </p><p>He was numb. Numb from how cold the night’s icy kiss was on his cheeks, numb from how broken he felt inside.</p><p> </p><p>He kept wandering, New York city was large enough to do that, to get lost in the streets that all look the same in the vague haze of the streetlights.</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer stopped suddenly, lighting a cigarette, watching it’s deadly smoke trail into the already polluted, murky air, and continued to walk with each step shattering his heart more and more.</p><p> </p><p>His knuckles were white from the biting air and from how hard he clutched at the handle of the case, speeding up his gate as he walked by a gay bar, the men hollering and whistling at him as he passed.</p><p> </p><p>He stopped.</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer had nowhere to stay, no money and no one to call, maybe a stranger would buy him a drink. Quickly he turned, relaxing his body slightly, as he swayed almost seductively into the bar, blowing smoke into a man’s face who got too close and was suddenly hit by the warmth.</p><p> </p><p>And the smell.</p><p> </p><p>It was more of a club than a bar, and he was in no means dressed fittingly, wearing a pale mint shirt and high waisted brown trousers that made his legs miles high, but still, he pushed through the crowd, stopping to admire a man who was staring at him, before finally sitting at a barstool.</p><p> </p><p>“what do you want?”</p><p> </p><p>“I- I’ll- “Whizzer looked at the shelves of liquor behind the bar, “give me a moment.”</p><p> </p><p>He only had pennies, he needed to find some way to get someone else to buy him one. He looked down the bar, taking another hit from the cigarette and the familiar sense of déjà vu washed over him.</p><p> </p><p>The man sidling up to him, brown messy hair and dad body not exactly making him Whizzer’s type. He hovered above Whizzer, and Whizzer pretended not to notice him, make him work for it.</p><p> </p><p>The man let out a throaty cough.</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer ignored it.</p><p> </p><p>“you’re the most attractive man in here.”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer smiled, a cute small one before he finally turned on his barstool, “so, no hello?”</p><p> </p><p>The man went a bright red, ruffling a hand through his messy hair, “I’m sorry, last time I had to flirt was with my wife ten years ago and-“ he cut himself off, turning even darker. “-oh god, now I have no hopes. Talking about my wife is a real boner killer.”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer’s ears pricked up, “wife?”</p><p> </p><p>“I, well-“ The man gave up, smiling “-I’m Marvin.”</p><p> </p><p>Wife was good in Whizzer’s book, wife meant they couldn’t get too attached.</p><p> </p><p>“Marvin-“ Whizzer drawled, taking another inhale from the cigarette, blowing the smoke into Marvin’s face, “I like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“what about you? What should I call the man I’m buying a drink?”</p><p> </p><p>“Whizzer.” He smiled, it felt right telling this man his real name.</p><p> </p><p>“can I buy you a drink?” the words shook whizzer from his daze, staring up at a man who wasn’t Marvin. He smiled, trying to forget him.</p><p> </p><p>“sure, one old fashioned please.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>The rest of the night came back to Whizzer in fragments, each as painful as a piece of glass.</p><p> </p><p>Several different men buying him drinks.</p><p> </p><p>Stumbling back to someone’s apartment.</p><p> </p><p>Two sets of hands on him, fumbling and bruising.</p><p> </p><p>A wire phone hanging off of the wall, dangling down as the sound of static filled the room.</p><p> </p><p>Then the knock at the door.</p><p> </p><p>He woke up to the knock at the door, sitting up abruptly, groggy and dizzy. He was strewed across a bed, two men entangling and gripping onto him. They snored loudly, not even stirring as the banging on the door continued. Whizzer sighed, his head pounding, and he aggressively pushed them off of him, finally managing to swing his legs off of the bed.</p><p> </p><p>He stumbled forward, the alcohol still heavy in his system, and he stopped, the knocking wavering for a second before picking back up again. He was stark naked, white powder and stains covering him, must’ve been a fun night, he thought to himself, picking up a large oversized t shirt and pulling it on as he managed to stagger to the door, holding onto the walls.</p><p> </p><p>Time slowed for a second and finally, finally he was able to open the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Marvin?” he whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“fun night?” Marvin replied coldly.</p><p> </p><p>“what did you- How did you?” He stared at Marvin, everything foggy as he swayed back and forth.</p><p> </p><p>“you phoned me.” Marvin had an icy stare on his face, staring at the bruises covering Whizzer’s neck and thighs, the practical handprint around his neck and the puffy, redness of his eyes. Whizzer always had red eyes after giving head. “you said you needed to see me one last time, so I came.”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer swallowed, but his mouth was still painfully dry, and his head was fuzzy.</p><p> </p><p>“did you ever love me?” Marvin asked, “did you ever wish it were just me and you?”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer would usually dodge the question, starting an argument which would be the beginning of their foreplay, but that night, or morning, it felt different. He was delicate and broken, he couldn’t hide himself, and he didn’t own Marvin anymore.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed, reluctantly speaking, “I love you. It hurts not being around you, and it was just you and me.” tears began to build up in his eyes, “It was only you and me in the end, but you cheated me, and you lied to me and you hurt me.”</p><p> </p><p>“why didn’t you tell me?”</p><p> </p><p>“because even when you loved Trina you were still manipulative, you still cheated, and you still lied. That’s how you show love, that’s what you think love is, an obligation.”</p><p> </p><p>“we can still get back together, I can try to be better-“</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer shook his head as the tears fell, “no. no we can’t because I never wanted to love you. I will hate myself if I get back together with you because I can’t, I can’t- I’m not supposed to love you.”</p><p> </p><p>Marvin’s face stayed cold, but for the first time in years, Whizzer let himself cry, let himself hurt instead of ignoring it.</p><p> </p><p>“John? John-“ from behind Whizzer, a naked man staggered up to him, embracing him from behind, “who’s this?”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer wiped his eyes, the man behind him biting his neck as he stared at Marvin, “a <em>friend</em>.” Whizzer said and Marvin winced, knowing that was how he would describe Whizzer when he didn’t want people to realise they were together.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin nodded, staring past Whizzer, staring past the man trying to make him jealous.</p><p> </p><p>“I never wanted to love you either.” He said, a smile on his face. “bye.” He whispered, walking away. The door closed behind him and the air became a dark blue as the first tears slipped silently down his face. Marvin stopped, looking up to the sky, “he loved me.” he said to himself smiling to the heavens, snow beginning to fall creating a simple dusting of icing sugar, “he loved me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. a conman's kiss part 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it's been a second.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A conman’s kiss part 4</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer ended up following Marvin around all day like an excited puppy, leaping and bounding around, pressing his nose to the glass as they watched planes take off in the airport, freedom was nice no matter how close he had to stay to Marvin.</p><p> </p><p>The only issue was, the childlike wonder made Marvin feel even more confused about who Whizzer really was.</p><p> </p><p>“who’s that?” Whizzer asked. Cordelia, wearing a fully grey pantsuit and bright yellow ascot walked towards them as though she was on a catwalk.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin sighed, “that’s Cordelia, my probie.” He looked at the puzzled expression on Whizzer’s face, “probationary agent. she does everything I don’t, she’s very good at her job and she can do way better than you.”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer threw his hands up in mock surrender, “I’m gay!”</p><p> </p><p>“but we all know you like knowing everyone in the room’s attracted to you.” Whizzer was about to interject, but Marvin was already greeting Cordelia, “hey.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiled brightly at Marvin before turning to Whizzer, “you must be Whizzer brown-“ she took a brief look at his body, looking up to the almost cartoonish hat on his head, a small smirk painting her lips, “-nice hat.”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer smiled charmingly, a cocky look to the onlooking Marvin who rolled his eyes, “what’ve we got?”</p><p> </p><p>The smile stayed on Whizzer’s face as Cordelia handed the thin navy-blue file over to Marvin, not even dropping for a second. “his name’s tony field, customs flagged him coming in from Spain.”</p><p> </p><p>“customs playing nice?” Marvin asked, kicking Whizzer as he tried to wipe the grin from his face.</p><p> </p><p>Cordelia shrugged, “the usual dick measuring contest, he’s in their custody not ours.”</p><p> </p><p>Marvin opened the folder as Whizzer stared him down, a fiery scowl on his face, “ just means less paperwork for me. What’s he carrying?”</p><p> </p><p>“oh you’re gonna love this!” Cordelia exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. As she turned, her blonde bob seemed to bounce with every step she took, leading the pair through the airport. Marvin watched as Whizzer ogled her ass and snapped his fingers in front of his face.</p><p> </p><p>“what?”  Whizzer asked, slightly shocked as he was snapped out of his daze.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin rolled his eyes “you’re staring and you’re gay.”</p><p> </p><p>“and I’m so horny that I could fuck anything that moves, so please be my guest puppy.” Whizzer challenged, watching as Marvin clenched his jaw at the nickname. Something  about Marvin getting annoyed at him made Whizzer want to do it more.</p><p> </p><p>The same way a boy pulls at a girls ponytails in the school playground to get her attention.</p><p> </p><p>They stopped as they reached a room, messy with all sorts of objects ranging from food to television screens. It was bright inside, harsh hospital style neon lighting, and Cordelia led them to the table, three aesthetically pleasing blue suitcases, unzipped but closed.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin stopped in front of the suitcase, opening it up slowly, not sure what would be inside. “Blancanieves y Los Siete Enanitos?” Marvin said slowly, holding up one of the many books in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Snow white and her seven little men.” Whizzer translated, opening his own suitcase, fiddling with one of the books, opening it up and taking a large inhale from its open pages.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>this </em>is what triggered our alert.” Marvin asked, turning to Cordelia, “what do we know about this guy?”</p><p> </p><p>“says he’s a rare-book dealer.” Cordelia shrugged, opening the third suitcase.</p><p> </p><p>“anything wrong with his paperwork?” Marvin asked, puzzled.</p><p> </p><p>“nope. He brought in the same books and the same quantity on three previous trips, he declared them each time.”</p><p> </p><p>Marvin turned one of the books over, shaking it gently, but nothing fell out as Whizzer sniffed the spine, his hair flopping in front of his face in a way that made Marvin swallow back the blush dusting his cheeks, “alright horny-“ Marvin directed to Whizzer “-are we wasting our time?”</p><p> </p><p>“horny?” Cordelia asked, smirking at Whizzer.</p><p> </p><p>“if he were the eighth dwarf.” Marvin replied, cherishing the anger on Whizzer’s face.</p><p> </p><p>“well-“ Whizzer replied, the passive aggressiveness clear as day in his voice, “-they’re not limited runs or special editions. Can’t be worth much.” He shrugged, looking back up to Marvin. “what do you think, closet case? if you were the ninth.” A cattish grin spread across his lips.</p><p> </p><p>Cordelia snorted and Marvin shot her a death stare. “why go to all the trouble of flying them in?” he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“good question.”</p><p> </p><p>“well-“ Cordelia interjected in the thoughtful silence that followed; “-he is nervous for having all the right paperwork.”</p><p> </p><p>Marvin stopped, looking up to her, taller than him with her heels, “I wanna talk to him.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll set it up.” Cordelia gathered her files and several books bagged for evidence, “hey boss, I’m grabbing some coffee. You want some?”</p><p> </p><p>“yeah, anything but decaf-“</p><p> </p><p>“-Cordelia” she stopped dead in her tracks, smiling to Whizzer, “-I’ll take mine straight.” He said, smirking.</p><p> </p><p>From behind him, Marvin smiled widely as Cordelia replied, “Whizzer, the coffee shop’s outside.”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer grinned, the flirtatious tone in her voice not going a miss.</p><p> </p><p>“you are way out of your league.” Marvin laughed as Whizzer turned back around to continue his inspection of the books. “and why are you doing this, you know you wouldn’t enjoy fucking her?”</p><p> </p><p>“oh, harmless flirting. It’s like a dance.”</p><p> </p><p>“no, there is no dance. You’re not even on her dance card. No dancing for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“um… she digs the hat.” Whizzer said, pointing to the hat he had placed on the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“um…-“ Marvin mimicked Whizzer “-she’d rather be wearing the hat.”</p><p> </p><p>Marvin walked away and Whizzer stood for a moment until his mouth dropped into an ‘O’ shape, “wait, she’s gay?” he asked, following quickly behind Marvin as he sped through the airport. He was rather fast for someone that short.</p><p> </p><p>“yup, in fact she’s married to your landlady.”</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly everything pieced together in Whizzer’s mind, “<em>so that’s</em> how you know Charlotte.”</p><p> </p><p>“actually I introduced them. Charlotte’s a forensic Pathologist working with the bureau.” Marvin quickly pushed open a door, striding up to the man sat alone at a desk, “Marvin Feldman, FBI.” He flashed a smile and his badge, the man sitting at the desk slightly skittish.</p><p> </p><p>“FBI? They’re really kicking it up a notch.” He laughed, but Whizzer noted that the joke was made uncomfortably, that his hands on his lap were moving and tugging on one another too quickly for it to be natural.</p><p> </p><p>“so, you’re a book dealer?” Marvin asked.</p><p> </p><p>“yes. Well, as I have told everyone here-“ he rocked onto his chair, reaching into the back pocket of his trousers, “-repeatedly, my business is the import and sale of rare books.” He handed Marvin a business card, Whizzer peering over his shoulder to get a good look at it.</p><p> </p><p>For a second, Marvin froze, Whizzer’s breath on his ear sending chills down his spine as the hair on the back of his neck rose.</p><p> </p><p>“how rare can they be?” Whizzer asked, noting Marvin’s failure to make words, “you’ve got six hundred of them.”</p><p> </p><p>“well, would you like me to go down to the crime lab, dust for fingerprints?”</p><p> </p><p>“oh I get it-“ Whizzer chuckled, “-because I’m telling you how to do your job. Well, I don’t actually work for the FBI, I’m a criminal informant, and let me tell you something. I could,  allegedly, forge one of these books better than the original so-“</p><p> </p><p>“so.” Marvin interrupted, clenching his jaw at how easily Whizzer could become cold and biting, “snow white in Spanish?”</p><p> </p><p>“snow white wasn’t created by Disney, detective. There are stories predating that.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m a federal agent unlike my CI here, and do you mean folklore of the virginally pure queen like Alexander Pushkin’s tale of the white princess and the seven knights?” Marvin moved round the table as he spoke, planting himself on the table next to the man, “is that what you mean?” The man suddenly got extremely nervous, twitching as he avoided Marvin’s eye contact, “what are the books for?” Marvin asked, his voice low and dangerous.</p><p> </p><p>Infront of Whizzer’s eyes, his thoughts flickered into reality. Marvin calling him a slut, forcing him onto his knees, putting his fingers into his mouth as he would beg for sex. And suddenly everything was normal, and he sighed. <em>I really need to get laid</em> he thought to himself, trying to forget about how deliciously perfect the moment had played out in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>The man opened his mouth to speak, his tongue trembling when suddenly the door opened. A large bald man, wearing a large black woollen coat and grabbing a black briefcase walked in, no noise until he spoke, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk to my client.” He pointed to the man next to Marvin and a sudden look of fear took over his face, “constitution and all.”</p><p> </p><p>He gestured to the door and Marvin got up, “Were you chasing the ambulance, or did they give you a ride, huh?” he said smacking the table angrily as he left, grabbing Whizzer’s elbow as he stared at the man, “come on!” Marvin hissed into his ear, but Whizzer could tell something was off, not budging until Marvin pulled him out.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin slammed the door closed behind him and Whizzer, quickly turning to him, his grasp tightening. “what the fuck Whizzer. You cannot lose your cool like that!”</p><p> </p><p>“says the man who just slammed the door!” Whizzer hissed</p><p> </p><p>“after his lawyer gets to him, we can’t talk to him!” Marvin turned back to see Cordelia flirting with one of the female agents, “where’s the customs inspector?” He asked</p><p> </p><p>Cordelia strutted up, pointing behind him, “Whizzer was right, the books aren’t worth much, a couple dollars each on eBay.” Whizzer smirked and Marvin scoffed, turning to the customs inspector.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, why didn’t you tell me the guy lawyered up? The second he makes that call; I can’t talk to him.”</p><p> </p><p>The officer shook his head, “he didn’t call anyone.”</p><p> </p><p>“then how did his lawyer know that--?” Suddenly Marvin froze, blinking as he cocked his head. He took off in a run, Whizzer and Cordelia exchanging a look before following, chasing Marvin as he slammed the door back open with his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer stopped in the doorway, watching as Marvin shook the man, his head slouched onto the table, the syringe sticking out of the side of his neck.</p><p> </p><p>His veins were red and bloated, his skin beginning to lose its glow.</p><p> </p><p>“I need paramedics now!” Cordelia yelled out of the room, quickly hitting the alarm.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin paced in a circle, “nobody frisked the lawyer” he yelled, “god!” through gritted teeth, pacing as Whizzer watched.</p><p> </p><p>“that’s a dead body.” Whizzer muttered to Cordelia, “that is a dead body.” He put a hand over his mouth, trying to tear his eyes away as he went very pale all of a sudden.</p><p> </p><p>Cordelia laughed bitterly, “what’s the matter with you, never seen a dead body before?” She turned to face Whizzer, seeing how nauseous he looked, “oh god, you’ve never seen a dead body before.” She escorted him out of the room, handing him several sachets of sugar from her pocket, “here, you look a little queasy.” She said, sitting him down on a bench. He opened the packet of sugar, pouring a little onto his tongue, swallowing it.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin was almost instantly back out again, face red and dark with anger. He pointed at Cordelia and Whizzer and gestured for them to follow him as they went back to the suitcases, he spoke fast as he walked, “got a dead book dealer, a killer lawyer, and a bunch of worthless books. All right come on!” his words were directed to Whizzer, “as a reformed professional counterfeiter, what is the Dutchman’s interest in these?”</p><p> </p><p>He opened the door, picking up one of the worthless books and throwing it back down.</p><p> </p><p>Something about his temper, Whizzer thought to himself, something about it would someday let him do something he would regret.</p><p> </p><p>“Dutchman?” Whizzer asked.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin shrugged “we believe he comes from the Netherlands.”</p><p> </p><p>“not very inventive. What was mine?” Whizzer asked, smoothing Marvin’s collar out in an attempt to forget about the dead body he just saw.</p><p> </p><p>“your nickname?” Marvin pulled away, but his tie became caught between Whizzer’s fingers, choking him slightly in a way he did not mind.</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer smiled innocently “yeah!”</p><p> </p><p>“get back to work.” Marvin grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer shrugged, letting go of the tie and put a book on the steel table, grabbing a thin metal ruler and sliding it between the pagers, separating them as he flipped through them. “published 1944 in Madrid.” He muttered to himself, eyes flickering back and forth until he suddenly understood, “this is what he’s after.”</p><p> </p><p>Gently he began to slide the ruler in the small space between the paper and the front cover.</p><p> </p><p>“the top sheet?” Marvin asked</p><p> </p><p>“more than that.” Whizzer replied, prising apart the layer, “this is a piece of 1944 Spanish press parchment.”</p><p> </p><p>“that’s what he wanted. Good. This is good!” Marvin exclaimed.</p><p> </p><p>“he’s gonna counterfeit something originally printed on paper like that!” Cordelia added as she figured it out.</p><p> </p><p>“that’s what I would do.” Whizzer said, the pressure on the ruler suddenly decreasing as he sliced apart the layer, a sheet of thin paper now in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin took it, holding it up to the light, “he made two shipments prior to this.</p><p> </p><p>“that’s two blank pages per book, is six hundred sheets.” Whizzer calculated.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin’s thoughts flowed almost directly off of Whizzer’s “too many for paintings, not enough for currency-“</p><p> </p><p>“-bonds.” Whizzer interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>For a second their eyes met and for that soul crushing second, Marvin wanted to kiss him, suddenly realising in that exact moment that he wasn’t in love with his wife, that he was never in love with his wife, and that he wanted this man right here on the steel table with god knows who watching. He realised that the bubbles in the stomach he thought he felt about his wife were forced, that wanting to have Cordelia was just a rouse to pretend he was straight because deep down, so far down it was dark and hollow, there was a tiny voice begging for him to let go, be himself.</p><p> </p><p>“his wallet-“ Marvin said, pushing his feelings down again. Cordelia passed him the book dealers wallet and he opened the cool leather, fiddling through credit cards and receipts until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a sticky back ID, a visitors pass to the national archives, “this is where he went before he left for Spain.”</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>“alright, so according to our guy at the national archive, Field visited the archive several months ago and again last week. Both times he went to see-“</p><p> </p><p>“-the Spanish victory bond.” Whizzer interrupted, the room filled with agents all stared at him, twisting in his chair on the edge of the conference room, an entirely bored look on his face as he threw a tiny blue ball up into the air.</p><p> </p><p>“for those of you who have not met my CI, this is Mr Brown. Please ignore him.” Marvin said, shooting a look at Whizzer from across the room. Whizzer scrunched his nose at Marvin, but the message was clear, the same look on his face as the dance with Cordelia. Harmless flirting, he called it, although each time he opened his mouth, Marvin wanted to dive out of the window, so afraid of his feelings.</p><p> </p><p>From on the centre of the glass conference table, Marvin pointed out the sheet of paper they had recovered from the airport. “this was what we found in the snow-white books, and this-“ he pointed at the Spanish victory bond, “-this was, in theory, the only surviving bond.”</p><p> </p><p>“in theory?” One of the agents interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>“let me take you back-“ Whizzer said.</p><p> </p><p>The room was large and white, quiet, like a library and Marvin delicately placed the paper from the books over the bond on the table, “look at that-“ he said, looking at Whizzer’s chiselled face only a few centimetres away from his own, “-a perfect fit. You’re beginning to earn your seven hundred a month.”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer smiled coldly at him, picking up the bond with his gloved hands, careful not to damage it, “you said it had a fascinating history?” he said, looking up to the curator.</p><p> </p><p>“quite. It was issued during the second world war.”</p><p> </p><p>“1944?” Marvin asked.</p><p> </p><p>“yes. Yeah. The U.S. issued it to support the Spanish in their battle against the axis. Very few have ever been redeemed.” Whizzer nodded as he stared back to the bond, creasing it slightly in his hand as he read it’s signature markings, bringing it close to his face. “there’s speculation that entire boxes were captured-“ Whizzer sniffed the bond, creasing his eyebrows before bringing it back down again, running his finger over the hand lettering in the centre, “-Many are still hidden in the caves of Altamira.”</p><p> </p><p>“whole boxes of these?” Marvin asked, and Whizzer stared at the slight pigment he had collected on the white glove.</p><p> </p><p>“yeah. Boy, that would be something, wouldn’t it?” the curator asked, and Whizzer put the bond down. “this is the only surviving copy.”</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer looked up, “except it’s a forgery.”</p><p> </p><p>Marvin looked from Whizzer to the curator, a shocked look on his face, “no. that’s not possible.” The curator speculated.</p><p> </p><p>Marvin had a warning tone in his voice as he whispered to Whizzer, “what are you talking about?”</p><p> </p><p>“it’s the ink.” Whizzer answered simply, “this is iron-gall dye mixed to match period colours, but it hasn’t dried yet.” He picked it up, “you can still smell the gum Arabic.” Marvin and the curator took a brief sniff of the paper, and suddenly the curators face went pale.</p><p>              </p><p>“no. this has been here since 1952.”</p><p> </p><p>“it’s been here less than a week.” Whizzer replied.</p><p> </p><p>“thank you Whizzer for casting us into such a vivid landscape, but I need to get on with the briefing-“ Marvin interrupted as Whizzer stared at the agents hanging onto his every word. Whizzer put his hands up in a please continue manner, and Marvin did as told. “so tony makes two trips. The first trip takes a picture of the bond, the second trip in, he steals the original and replaces it with this copy. Can we confirm that?”</p><p> </p><p>“the timed ink identification test puts the age of the bond at approximately six days, which coincides with Tony’s visit.” One of the agents from the side of the room answered and Marvin nodded.</p><p> </p><p>“we’re pulling surveillance video to back it up-“ Cordelia finished.</p><p> </p><p>“good.” Marvin continued, “so the question is, why go to the trouble of making a nice forgery on the right type of paper just to stick it back in the archives. Ideas people.” The room was silent as people avoided Marvin’s eye contact, unable to figure out what it meant.</p><p> </p><p>“is the bond still negotiable?” Whizzer asked, cutting through the silence.</p><p> </p><p>Everyone’s head turned to him, “It’s a zero option. It never expires. What’s it worth?”  Marvin asked, getting up quickly and pacing the office floor.</p><p> </p><p>“thousand- dollar face value, drawing nine percent interest—” one of the agents started.</p><p> </p><p>“compounded for 64 years-“ Cordelia finished.</p><p> </p><p>“two hundred and forty-eight thousand dollars.” Whizzer interrupted, staring at the green dot on his tracking anklet.</p><p> </p><p>“what he said-“ Cordelia said, checking the answer on a calculator as Marvin ogled at him.</p><p> </p><p><em>What can’t he do</em>, Marvin thought to himself. He shook his head, staring out of the large windows at the blurring city lights in the light shower of rain, “quarter of a million, and he’s got six hundred sheets of this stuff.”</p><p> </p><p>The room stared to Whizzer who’s eyes flitted back and forth for a millisecond before replying, “ a hundred and fifty million,” he looked up, “give or take.”</p><p> </p><p>“okay, good- but it still doesn’t tell us why he would take out the real bond and put in a forgery” Marvin said to the room, making pointed gestures at the table with his finger.</p><p> </p><p>Whizzer leant back in his chair continuing to throw the ball up in the air, and suddenly he sat up, “I think it does.” He pointed to Marvin, ball still in his hand “what if he claimed he found boxes of the original bonds?”</p><p> </p><p>“dragged them out of those caves in Spain-“</p><p> </p><p>“how would they be authenticated?” Whizzer asked Marvin, a question that prompted a second of thinking from the older man.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly the look of understanding crossed Marvin’s face, “they’d be taken to the archives and compared to the original.”</p><p> </p><p>“which he’s already switched out with his own-“</p><p> </p><p>“-so of course they’re gonna match. I could kiss you-“ Marvin hesitated, his open mouth wavering as he realised what he had said. He shook his head and Whizzer looked back up to the ceiling, throwing the ball up again, “oh, this is good. This is really good.” He said, walking behind Whizzer and grabbing the ball as it made its apex, leaving Whizzer with a lonely expression. “all right, let’s think about this.” Marvin began to squeeze the ball in his hand.</p><p> </p><p>On the desk, the landline began to ring and Marvin, still pacing, pointed at it as Cordelia reached across the table picking it up, “It’s Trina.” She said, and Marvin stopped, scrunching his eyes. He let out a sharp exhale, gesturing for everyone to leave and picked it up.</p><p> </p><p>“hey. Would you believe me if I said I was pulling up right in front of the house now?” He asked, already knowing she wouldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>Trina was stood in the kitchen, pouring herself a large glass of white wine, watching as Jason played with his food, “you lost track of time.” She sighed, walking around the island and placing her glass on the table. “it happens.” Trina was done being mad.</p><p> </p><p>But Marvin found it suspicious, “I hope you didn’t make dinner.” He said, eyes narrowed. On the outside their conversations would seem normal, but inside they were filled with digs and slashes at one another.</p><p> </p><p>“did you forget who you married.” Trina replied, her laugh silvery, but cold as though cutlery was dropping together, “I am smarter than that.” She sat down at her seat at the table, a plate of homemade food in front of her, her husband’s food, at the head of the table. “so, how’s Whizzer doing?” She asked, biting her tongue.</p><p> </p><p>She hated that man. when they first met, had coffee together before she knew who he was, she liked him, but after he made her husband miss many dates and anniversary’s and parties, she had grown to loathe him.</p><p> </p><p>“he’s met Cordelia.”</p><p> </p><p>Trina patted the seat next to her, the dog leaping up and eating Marvin’s food as Jason giggled. “oh, a woman who can resist his charms.” She had always admired the aesthetic of Whizzer Brown, wished his lifestyle could be hers.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you, he’s gay. Look, I’m onto something Trina darling-“</p><p> </p><p>Trina sighed “so I won’t wait up.” She was cold again. She had never been cold before she met Marvin, but now she was afraid that was all she had become.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m leaving. Ten minutes, I promise.” Marvin looked out on the skyline, knowing he wasn’t going to keep his promises. They were always so empty, and she knew it. “twenty at the most.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” Trina replied, trying so hard to stop her voice from cracking. “I love y-“</p><p> </p><p>He put the phone down before he heard the final word, staring out of the glass room and looking at Whizzer Brown, greeting an agent, a flirtatious smile on his face reciprocated by the other man.</p><p> </p><p>And he felt the heaviness of who he was trying to be, dropping onto his shoulders for the first time.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. heroes and villains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is kinda based off of the first scene in the incredibles, it aint long, but it's sweet</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hero vs villain</p>
<p>The man rammed at the bars, shoulder pressing into them as he struggled to prize them apart. He rolled his eyes slipping to the floor, checking his watch. </p>
<p>Seven minutes, it would be another twenty-one until he came. </p>
<p>He slid onto his back, watching the ceiling of the giant bird cage, staring at himself in the metallic reflective surface, wondering where the guy bought a giant bird cage from. </p>
<p>He sighed, humming to himself. It was a game they played; he would always come after twenty-eight minutes. A dance, a flirtatious means to the end. </p>
<p>The cage was new, and he ran his nails delicately over the rungs, listening to the soft melody that echoed through the chamber. It had been a while, a long time since they had met, and their lives had turned upside down. Their lives had been intertwined long before that, long before they had even met.</p>
<p>He tried fixing his hair, watching in the mirrored ceiling as it would flip directly back into the position it was already in.</p>
<p>He was bored. Very, very bored. </p>
<p>That was when he heard the distinctive click of the expensive leather shoes he wore every time he caught him. Then the whistle, the three-note whistle, a minor triad, shivers shaking through his spine as every note resonated and echoed through the chamber. </p>
<p>“hello.” When he spoke, his voice caused prickles to build on every single piece of exposed flesh. </p>
<p>The man in the cage got up, the coolness playing his smile, “hello.” </p>
<p>That was the way they would always greet each other. A way that was like the first couple of notes of a waltz, the beginning of the anacrusis, striking and memorable. </p>
<p>His shoes continued to click and the man in the cage could suddenly pin point where he was, see him emerge from the shadows. The shadows falling first from his cheeks and forehead, his eyes and cheekbones still hollow and dark. </p>
<p>“it’s been a while.” He said. His latex suit struck a reflective glare onto the floor as he was finally out of the shadows, the mask covering his eyes. </p>
<p>The man in the cage went to the bars, meeting him at the edge, only a few metres between them as he clung to the metal, hands shaking. “well, I’ve been busy.” </p>
<p>He took a step forward, “me too my little hero.” </p>
<p>Hardly any space between them, part of the dance. “I have missed this,” the man in the cage began, circling the cage as he trailed his fingers on the bars, the metallic ring floating through the air. “it really has been a highlight of mine recently.”</p>
<p>“don’t you have someone at home waiting for you?” the man outside the cage asked.</p>
<p>“yes.” He smiled, eyebrow raised, “but he doesn’t fulfil me anymore.”</p>
<p>“he?” the man outside the cage took another step closer, his head cocking.</p>
<p>The hero smiled, stopping his circle of the metal, “yes. He.” There was a playful tone in his voice, a smile as soft as sea glass. </p>
<p>The villain checked his watch, a clicking noise echoing through the air as his tongue snapped against the roof of his mouth. “Ah, seems our time is almost up.” He said. </p>
<p>Another step forward. </p>
<p>His hands gently caressed the bars before he gripped onto them tightly, looking up with the bright smile on his face. The villain leaned forward, his breath light on the peach fuzz that graced the hero’s cheek. The cage was beginning to turn a peach as the sun set peacefully, “will I be seeing you soon?” he asked. </p>
<p>“much sooner that you may think.” The hero replied, a grin on his face. </p>
<p>He reached through the bars, pulling the villains face to his, and kissed him, the bright grin softening into kisses that tasted of sea foam and bubbles that float into the sky.</p>
<p>The villain pulled away, eyes soft and light, “until next time, my little hero” He said, a giddy look on his face. </p>
<p>His leather shoes clicked as he slinked back into the darkness, leaving the hero alone, wondering how he would be able to get out of the bird cage. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>He almost ran down the aisle, the suit uncomfortable as he reached the front, the white flowers surrounded him as he stopped next to the man in the powder blue suit that matched his bow tie. </p>
<p>“when I asked if I would see you soon, I thought you would remember us GETTING MARRIED!” the man hissed, leaning his head nearer to him as they turned, holding hands. </p>
<p>“sorry Whizz, but that bird cage was fucking hard to get out of!” </p>
<p>Whizzer gasped quietly but full of dramatic air, “Marvin, how dare you swear on our wedding day!” he whispered a smile on his face. </p>
<p>They stood staring into each other’s eyes as the rabbi spoke. </p>
<p>“Marv, do you ever think this might not… work out?” Whizzer asked, a nervousness about him as he jittered. </p>
<p>But Marvin just squeezed his hands, a small smile on his face, “I love you Whizz, no matter if you’re a ‘villain’.” He said, rolling his eyes to punctuate the stupidity.</p>
<p>“baby, I’m serious.” </p>
<p>“Baby, I’m serious. I love you and you’re not a villain, you’re an anti-hero. It’s sexy” </p>
<p>“you’re fucking sexy-”</p>
<p>“hey! What did you say about no swearing?” Marvin asked. Whizzer giggled, leaning in to kiss Marvin as they were united as one, the laugh melodic and sweet, a laugh that Marvin would remember until the day he would die.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. meant. loved. were.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>trigger warnings. this is very dark.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Meant. Loved. Were.</p><p>The tears formed in Whizzer’s eyes, they painfully drowned his soul, spilling dangerously onto his cheeks. His lips quivered gently, and he suddenly turned, his back facing Marvin.</p><p>Marvin.</p><p>Marvin, the man he trusted not to be like the rest of them.</p><p>The man who as it turned out was worse than them, worse than all of them, even worse than his abusive father and his drunken mother.</p><p>Whizzer looked to the heavens, praying the tears to disappear, praying that he wasn’t really there, that it was all just a cruel dream his mind had made up to remind him why he shouldn’t ever get close to people.</p><p>But it wasn’t a dream, it was very much real.</p><p>The blood dripping from his blackened eye was very much there, his eye going dark and puffy, and the numbness he felt in his heart was the tell-tale sign.</p><p>The inescapable feeling of dread and fear that made his stomach boil and wash over him, the sickness kicking in as he tripped forward, plunging his face into the icy water in the sink basin, not even afraid of messing up his hair for a change.</p><p>Trying to wash away what he thought was an accident.</p><p>Then the hand wrapped around the back of his neck and he took a shocked breath in, spluttering as his lungs filled with water. His hands clutched urgently at the side of the sink as he tried with all of his will to push his head up above the water line, thrashing around in the water. His hands sliced into the raw metal under the counter as he dug in, the pressure in his temples slowly building as he could hear his heart pound in his ears, his grip loosened.</p><p>Slowly his neck relaxed, lolling to the side, everything foggy.</p><p>Suddenly his head was pulled up, as though the hands around his neck were like a noose.</p><p>He gasped as he regained consciousness, trying to claw at the hands that held his neck weakly, the red bruises beginning to go purple.</p><p>“where was dinner Whizzer?” Marvin spat into his ear, dragging Whizzer’s head upwards.</p><p>Suddenly Whizzer couldn’t feel anything anymore. He couldn’t feel the burning in his throat, couldn’t feel the stinging of the slash on his upper cheek, couldn’t feel the numb pain in his heart.</p><p>Instead he felt the icy hell, the fake dismissal, the <em>fiery</em> hell, the nonchalance he was known for.</p><p>He refused to reply.</p><p>“for fuck’s sake <em>Whizzer</em>-“  his words felt sharper than the knife he had brought to Whizzer’s throat that caused the slice in his face “-you’re a useless—” he smacked Whizzer’s head down, his forehead catching on the hard wood of the counter causing him to cry out in pain, “-selfish—” He suddenly pulled Whizzer’s head back, his hand moving so that it was around the front of his throat, and stormed him up against the fridge, his grip tightening on the thin flesh, feeling every single heartbeat slow “-gigolo.”</p><p>Then there was silence as the only thing heard in the room was Whizzer’s choked breaths in, and the smacking of his hands-on Marvin’s forearms.</p><p>Then Marvin let go, watching him crumple to the floor,  his blue face slowly regaining its honey colour as he took the raspy inhales, each gasp sounding as though nails were embedded in his throat.</p><p>Marvin’s eyes drifted shut, inhaling slowly.</p><p>Each breath making him feel slightly more guilty, making the powerful feeling he felt as his hands closed around Whizzer’s throat turn more into a nauseous one.</p><p>He drove his foot, full force, into Whizzer’s stomach, watching him contort and convulse into a tiny ball, shielding his organs from the world.</p><p>“fuck. I love you Whizzer. Stay.”</p><p>He yelled, his fists clenching and his breaths short and fast.</p><p>Yelling, it would always end with yelling.</p><p>Ironic really. An ironic show of strength because losing control is weak, because yelling is just the auditory version bursting into tears.</p><p>And suddenly a million pieces of his heart shattered when he was met with the still silence.</p><p>“whizzer?” his voice dropped to the low whisper.</p><p>No reply.</p><p>Marvin rolled his eyes, the heavy feeling behind them disappeared as he took another kick at the man on the floor, hearing the crack of his toes and the shattering pain that ran through his body.</p><p>But he couldn’t feel anything anymore as he pulled Whizzer up and pushed his head forward against the fridge.</p><p>“I thought I meant something.” His voice was spiteful and loud as he continued to bash Whizzer’s head against the freezer, harder and harder, “I thought you loved me.” Suddenly he realised how still Whizzer was. “I didn’t know you were- you were…”</p><p>
  <em>Meant. </em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>Loved. </em>
</p><p>
  
  <em>Were. </em>
</p><p>The tiny trail of blood running from his nose.</p><p>He dropped the lifeless body, edging it out of the way with his foot and opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle from the almost empty twelve pack.</p><p>He sat on the counter, watching, the beer held in his cold grip.</p><p>He stayed there for days until the intolerable smell became too much and the neighbours called the police.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Flowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Flowers.</p><p>Whizzer Brown hated flowers.</p><p>Except for roses, but still, only blood red roses. He liked the way they would furl and wrap to the tight centre. Roses for love. Roses for romance. He liked how expensive they were more than anything.</p><p>The reason he hated flowers was due to the fact he had a horrendous allergy to them. If he was anywhere in the vicinity of even a single flower, if not highly medicated on antihistamines and painkillers, he would become the visual representation of the flu.</p><p>He would look a sickly green, coughing up nasty substances that made even him gag. His nose would go a bright red, his eyes matching it, looking as though he had been crying for days and he struggled to breath. Usually he would curl up in his bed and pray to an unknown power to die. To Whizzer Brown, looking like this was one of the greatest punishments in the world. Why God had given him beauty just to take it away whenever he was near the tiny fuckers was a mystery to him.</p><p>But still, he was a materialistic man, and the promise of roses could make him do anything.</p><p>Including working for free at his friend, Cordelia’s, flower shop while she was out of town on a romantic get away with her girlfriend.</p><p>It was a quiet shop, and he wasn’t even sure why he was there, every few hours, getting a single customer pondering outside for a few moments before leaving. The boredom would probably kill him before the flowers, he decided.</p><p>But he caught a glance of himself in one of the glass panes of the greenhouse like walls and realised that he looked like hell, just couldn’t feel it. Probably the result of taking about the amount an amputee would take of oxycodone, which he hadn’t exactly come across legally, in ten minutes. Granted, after seeing his reflection, he suddenly felt a lot worse for wear.</p><p>He decided he was going to close shop early when suddenly a man flurried in, “Delia, I need my normal order!” he exclaimed, hurrying to the counter, his wallet already out with a very precise amount of cash held out. He finally looked up as he slammed the cash down on the wearing wood. “who the fuck are you, and why do you look shockingly sick?” he asked.</p><p>“do I, do I really?” Whizzer replied sarcastically taking a judgmental look up and down at this man. Definitely gay. His words were slurring as he spoke, sounding kinda funny as they left his lips. He smacked a hand over his mouth, his eyes opening wide, as he realised how rude he was being to a customer “I’m sorry, I’m high.” He smacked his hand over his mouth again, “I mean, I’m not <em>high </em>but I’m allergic to flowers and took a fuck tonne of oxy.”</p><p>“oh.” The man’s mouth made a perfect ‘o’ shape. It made Whizzer want to giggle, he looked like a cartoon. “where’s Cordelia?” he asked.</p><p>“she’s on a personal trip.” Whizzer said, a matter-of-fact expression on his face as his voice dropped very low. The grainy sound of it sounded funny and his movements felt extremely exaggerated. He had the urge to laugh but didn’t know why.</p><p>The man’s face suddenly lit up as though he remembered something, “oh yes, the trip to the Hamptons with Charlotte! Shit, I forgot. Do you still think I could get my regular?”</p><p>“you know <em>know </em>Cordelia?” He asked, wondering how he had never been introduced to this obviously gay man before.</p><p>“yes, I know <em>know </em>Cordelia. Now, can I get my regular or not.” He fidgeted nervously, nudging the healthy wad of cash towards Whizzer. </p><p>Whizzer wiped his weeping eyes, sighing, “you came just in time, I was about to close up.” He said, walking around the counter to the back office. “She left me a couple of notes…” he called out, the man able to hear the sound of pots falling and breaking. “ah! What did you say your name was?” he asked, popping his head around the door, almost falling over from the momentum.</p><p>“I didn’t, it’s Marvin.” He said, smiling.</p><p>“Marvin… Marvin… Marvie, Marv…” Whizzer said, giggling to himself as he trailed his finger down the list, “nope. No Marvin, we only have a Mrs Z, a Carmen and ‘the cheating asshat’.”</p><p>“that would be me.” Marvin said, rolling his eyes.</p><p>Whizzer’s eyebrows flew into his hair. “I see.” Was all he said, trying to force his face to go back to normal. He exited the room, collecting the flowers that were scrawled down in Cordelia’s flouncy handwriting.</p><p>“it’s not what you think.” Marvin called out over Whizzer’s humming as he picked out the deadest flowers he could find.</p><p>“I wasn’t thinking anything.” Whizzer replied, taking a single perfect rose in his gloved hands. Something different for a change, beautiful, a token reminder of him.</p><p>“they’re for my wife.”</p><p>“ho ho ho! Your <em>wife</em>!” Whizzer exclaimed, “you cheat on your wife?” he suddenly stopped. “does she know?” he asked, curious now, a seductive smirk gracing his lips.</p><p>Marvin’s head dropped slightly, “no?”</p><p>“why was that a question?”</p><p>“because I don’t <em>think</em> she knows” he said. “I get her flowers every time I cheat on her.” He said, slightly guiltily.</p><p>“I hate to break it to you hon, but she knows.” Whizzer said, placing the flowers down onto the counter, rummaging beneath it.</p><p>“surely not, she hasn’t <em>said </em>anything...”</p><p>“what’s his name?” Whizzer asked, ignoring him as he began to wrap the flowers.</p><p>“sorry?”</p><p>“the guy you cheat with,” Whizzer looked up from wrapping them. “what’s his name?”</p><p>“he’s, um… how did you know It was a he?”</p><p>Whizzer snorted, “please.” He stated, “so, what’s he like?” </p><p>Marvin ran a hand through his messy hair, “I’m not… it’s more like one-night stands.”</p><p>“ooh, a <em>bad boy</em>.” He said, a small giggle on his face. “why didn’t Cordelia introduce us, you’re cute.”</p><p>“because I’m married and she-“ he gestured to the list Whizzer had put down, “-obviously doesn’t condone my cheating.”</p><p>“doesn’t faze me.” Whizzer said, his eyes meeting Marvin’s, a seductive glint in them.</p><p>Marvin let out a soft laugh, “you obviously haven’t broken up a family.”</p><p>“two.” Whizzer replied, bringing a hand forward to delicately caress Marvin’s face.</p><p>“two?”</p><p>“two.” He could feel Marvin trembling beneath his palm “I like to think I’m doing them a service.” He brought his lips to Marvin’s ear, his hot breath causing him to shiver, “tell me Marvin, do you really love your wife, or would you prefer not to feel the guilt anymore?” He whispered.</p><p>“I…—” Marvin pulled back. “I would like my flowers please.”</p><p>Whizzer smiled, “of course.” He watched Marvin turn to admire the roses and tied up the bouquet with a blood red ribbon. “here.” He whispered, passing Marvin the bunch, “and my number, in case you want to know how gorgeous I look when I’m not surrounded by these little fuckers who want to kill me.” He handed Marvin the slip of paper, “I bet I could be the best you’ve had.” He winked, watching Marvin’s ass as he walked away, shocked.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. (love thy) neighbour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>kinda random but isn't that just me? </p><p>this was written as a way of me procrastinating from writing one hour more lol.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>(love thy) Neighbour AU</p><p>Marvin, holding bags of groceries in his slippery fingers, had to open the door with his shoulder. </p><p>It was one of those days where the heat causes you to snap at the tiniest things and everything just so happens to go wrong. </p><p>His hair seemed to be slicked to his forehead and uncomfortable, the sweat patches growing on his back and under his arms extremely unattractive. In summary, he needed a cold shower and then to lay naked on his bed with his fan on high and forget about the shocking day he had endured. </p><p>But sadly that was not the plan of his neighbours, Charlotte and Cordelia, who had forced him to go out on a double date with them, and once he revealed he didn’t have anyone to go with, insisted they set him up with someone. </p><p>Thus came the day when it was so hot, he didn’t think he could make it outside again without collapsing. </p><p>The door swung open and he almost fell into the small apartment, quickly pacing to the fridge. He opened it, panting as a wave of cool air cascaded from the bottom, sticking his head into it as he savoured the cool breeze. </p><p>He was midway through stocking it up, when his phone rang and he picked it up, trying to hold it between his shoulder and ear until the sweat caused it to slip to the floor. </p><p>He cursed, picking it up and checked that it wasn’t cracked, “hey bitch what’s up?” </p><p>“hey Marv, remember, date at seven! the guy is really particular, you cannot be late, ‘kay?” </p><p>“’kay.” He replied, sticking his head in the fridge. </p><p>“also, don’t wear that fucking chequered shirt, it’s ugly as shit.”</p><p>There was a long pause as he looked down at the very shirt he had on “fine Lottie.” </p><p>“maybe something that shows your biceps, they’re your only good feature.”</p><p>“um… thanks?” she hung up without replying and Marvin checked the time, about an hour not factoring traffic. </p><p>He quickly put the rest of his food into the fridge, wiping his face free of sweat as he walked through the bedroom to his bathroom. He didn’t even bother to get a towel, instead just turned on the shower, as cold as he could muscle, and got in, feeling the sweet relief for a moment. </p><p>He instantly grabbed his shampoo, lathering it up into his hair. </p><p>The moment of ice-cold satisfaction only lasted for a second as he suddenly heard the grating of the pipes and the water heat for a a fraction of a second before grinding to a stop. </p><p>“you have got to be fucking kidding me.” He said to himself, looking up at the shower head that was dripping pathetically. Then the lights flickered out. </p><p>He stumbled out of the shower, waddling naked and soaking through the rooms as he grabbed his phone, tapping his foot on the slippery wooden floor impatiently as he waited for the woman to pick up. </p><p>“what?!” she snapped. </p><p>Marvin adopted a sweet tone, “ Hey Trina, I’m so sorry to call…”</p><p>“what?” she repeated, this time her voice sounding more resigned as though she had given up. </p><p>“my water and power just went out.” He said sheepishly. </p><p>She sighed loudly and he could picture her massaging her temples, “Marvin, rent was due today.” </p><p>“oh fuck.”</p><p>“if you don’t have the money we can go over some—”</p><p>“no no, I have it!” Marvin interrupted. “I just, shit I just forgot to pay it. I literally have the cash in an envelope on my counter right now, can you come pick it up?” </p><p>“drop it off with Mendel--”</p><p>“thank you so much!” </p><p>“--but it will take a couple of days to turn it on again.”</p><p>Marvin sighed, knowing he’d have to find another fridge to store his food, but realising he had no other choice, accepted it, “thank you Trina, you’ll have your money.” </p><p>He put the phone on the counter next to the envelope and sighed. He went to ruffle his hair, but feeling the shampoo still condensed in it, suddenly figured out that he’d had to find another shower. He went to his bedroom, only able to find the skimpiest towel ever invented, barely covering his upper thighs with it as he slipped out of his apartment, knocking on the neighbours door. </p><p>“go away Marvin.” He heard Cordelia yell out. </p><p>“how did you know it was me?” he replied through the door. </p><p>“I don’t know, women’s intuition. Charlotte and I are… busy, then we’re leaving so fuck off!” </p><p>He stared at the door for a moment, debating his options, then went to go back to his apartment. As he went to push open the door with his foot, his eyes drifted to the door opposite his. He’d seen the man around, he looked young, and always said hello whenever they crossed paths in the hallway. For someone so attractive, he did seem to have a nervous almost nerdy disposition about him, and was most definitely gay, maybe he could persuade him with a blowjob or something. </p><p>He knocked, shifting nervously on the spot. </p><p>Hoping it wouldn’t come to a blow job. </p><p>“look if you’re telling me that my hair is my best feature again, I already know lot-“ he trailed off as he saw Marvin, his mouth making a fish gape that he couldn’t seem to close. </p><p>“um… hi?” Marvin said, a strange look on his face as he watched the man in front of him. </p><p>“hi.” He said softly. </p><p>There was a pause. </p><p>“I’m sorry, we’ve never properly met, I’m Marvin and I was—”</p><p>“I know.” The man said, his face blushing a crimson all of a sudden.</p><p>“er… okay, well-“</p><p>“I’m Whizzer, but you can call me whatever you want.” He was almost drooling at the sight Infront of him. Marvin with a towel barely covering his crotch. Upon realising what he said, he tried to figure out how he could melt in the dreadful heat to get rid of the awkwardness. </p><p>Marvin blinked twice. “whizzer’s fine.” He said, wondering if asking this slightly creepy man to use his shower was the best choice. “I was actually wondering if I could—”</p><p>“use my shower, of course.”</p><p>“how did you-“</p><p>“you’ve got shampoo in your hair and you’re only wearing a towel.” Whizzer said, flashing the straight white rows of teeth in a warm and charming way. “and it looks kinda low quality, you can use my stuff.” Whizzer opened his door and Marvin followed him through the rooms that were the exact mirror image of his. He looked around curiously, seeing the canvases and pallets scattered across the floors and surfaces. “sorry about the…” Whizzer trailed off, making a random hand gesture towards the mess. Large canvases with bright colours and paintings mid-way through completion with green plants hanging from the shining copper pipes on the ceiling. </p><p>It was a somehow organised mess, beautiful and bright, unnatural shadows casting across the room. </p><p>The bedroom was different, a huge hand painted mural of a naked woman on the wall over the bed, candles burning, a cacophony of scents different to the strength of the turpentine in the previous one. </p><p>“did you do that?” Marvin grunted. </p><p>Whizzer nodded, stopping and tilting his head as he stared. “during the renaissance women were considered beautiful whatever body shape they had. They didn’t need to starve themselves to have a social construct men make up to make them feel less worthy.” </p><p>“it’s beautiful” </p><p>Whizzer turned to him, beaming “thank you.” He replied, “er… bathroom’s in there, but I don’t have a shower curtain and I need to style my hair.”</p><p>“oooh, got a date?” Marvin teased, not sure why he wanted to tease a man he had only just met.</p><p>“actually, I do.” Whizzer smiled. </p><p>“yeah, so do I.” Marvin replied, deep in the ‘straight voice’ he’d sometimes put on. There was a moment of awkward silence. “urm… I went to boarding school so I’m chill with showering in front of strangers.” </p><p>“huh.” Whizzer stated. There was another second of silence. “you can use whatever you want” he said, gesturing to the shelves upon shelves filled with bottles and tubs of different coloured lotions and conditioners and putty’s. </p><p>“er… that’s… okay?” he asked, his eyes wide as he wasn’t even sure what half of the words on the products meant. </p><p>Whizzer rolled his eyes, “no, I insist.” He said, leaning in to the shower and picking out several different shaped containers, “shampoo, conditioner, leave this in for a couple minutes, and some curl cream. rake and scrunch with this at the end.” </p><p>“I don’t have curly hair.” </p><p>“you do, you just don’t treat it right. You need to look your best for your date.” Whizzer said almost sarcastically, dropping them into Marvin’s arms. He turned around, getting the round brush and hairdryer and began surgery on his hair as Marvin just stared for a moment. </p><p>He shrugged, dropping the towel and got into the shower, humming gently as he was satisfied by the icy water. </p><p>He noticed the glances Whizzer took at him, but pretended he didn’t, flaunting his biceps as he took charlottes advice for once. </p><p>Whizzer’s eyes would flitter curiously at him through the glass pane, his face heating up every time he saw something he knew he probably wasn’t meant to see. “oh, I um…” Whizzer trailed off as he tried to explain their eye contact in the large mirror that was beginning to fog up, “nothing… I gotta call someone.”</p><p>He ran quickly from the room, thinking he had closed the door, and Marvin heard him jump on his bed as he subdued his hums. </p><p>Marvin hadn’t wanted to listen in, it just sorta happened.</p><p>“I don’t care if I’m interrupting sex Lottie, you interrupt mine all the time… yeah well someone fucking me is the same as Delia giving you head so shut up and listen… the cute guy, the one I’m literally in love with who lives across the hall… yeah Marvin, he’s naked and in my apartment right now… he’s actually stunning oh my god, his freaking jawline and his hair and…” Whizzer trailed off as he heard the squeak of the tap being turned off before continuing, his voice much quieter than before “he has a really nice dick… yes there is such a thing as a bad dick... you’re a fucking lesbian, how would you knOW HEY MARVIN.” </p><p>He threw his phone across the room. Not conspicuous at all. </p><p>Even less conspicuous was the sound of Charlotte still talking on the other end, but Marvin pretended not to notice, wrapping the towel around his waist. “thanks Whizzer, do you want me to do anything for you—” he sighed, “blow you, I don’t know, reimburse you?” he said reluctantly. </p><p>Whizzer’s jaw dropped wide open and his mouth suddenly became extremely dry.</p><p>Marvin rolled his eyes, dropping to his knees and scooted over to Whizzer, undoing his pants quickly. The sooner this would be over, the better… or maybe not. He was sweet and attractive, but Marvin did not like to be the one with the dick in his mouth. He pushed Whizzer back, so he was seated on his bed, and tried working his boxers.  </p><p>“woah woah woah there sailor.” Whizzer said, pushing Marvin away. His body popped back as though he were a giant blow up doll, “hey, I’m cool. Get up.” </p><p>A look of confusion crossed his face, “sorry but I thought… you said on the phone… I…”</p><p>Whizzer flushed bright red, “you… you heard that?” he asked. Marvin nodded, his face matching the same colour as Whizzer’s as they stared at each other. </p><p>Marvin staring at the man he had almost blown but who had declined him, leaving him feeling very embarrassed and on his knees, and whizzer staring at the man who had overheard him describing his dick, that he shouldn’t have been looking at, on the phone to a friend.</p><p>And that he had been crushing on him for years. </p><p>“so I’m going to go…” Marvin said. </p><p>As he went to get up, Whizzer also stood and their heads met in the middle, a loud thunk causing them to stagger back. </p><p>“umm… see you around.” Whizzer said, an awkward wave slipping from his hand along with his remaining dignity. </p><p>-</p><p>“oh my god.” Cordelia was almost in tears as Marvin recounted the story outside of the restaurant, “that is some fanfic shit, oh my god Charlotte remember when I caught you reading greys anatomy fanfiction?” She asked, giggling as she nudged Charlotte. </p><p>“ha ha ha.” Charlotte said sarcastically, but she couldn’t help but feel the smile creeping on to her lips. “oh look, there he is.” She exclaimed, suddenly waving behind Marvin.</p><p>Marvin turned, a large smile on his face suddenly trapping, as almost in slow motion, he saw Whizzer jogging up to the trio. </p><p>“oh fuck.” They said at the same time as their eyes met, Charlotte and Cordelia laughing even more as an almost evil smile was shared between the pair. </p><p>“so, we lied, this isn’t a double date, we’ll see you later.” Cordelia said, blowing Marvin and Whizzer a kiss as she dragged a giggling Charlotte behind her down the street. </p><p>They began to protest after them, but Cordelia suddenly started singing very high and very loud as Charlotte kissed her to shut her up. </p><p>Whizzer turned to Marvin, “so…” they stood awkwardly in the silence as he trailed off “…I preferred you without clothes.”</p>
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<a name="section0031"><h2>31. let's play a game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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    <strong>hehe, I made a new animation a while ago and realised that this was probably the only place where people would actually care.  it's something bad is happening reprise, Why? because I like putting myself in pain ;)</strong>
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      <a href="https://youtu.be/0fvpYqmZSBo">https://youtu.be/0fvpYqmZSBo</a>
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<p>Let’s play a game…</p>
<p>Whizzer’s smile was almost manic as he stumbled forward, his nostrils flared as he stared directly into Trina’s eyes, cold and heartless.</p>
<p>He slammed the bottle down in the centre of the small circle.</p>
<p>“I think you’ve had enough.” She said, her voice barely reaching across to him.</p>
<p>Whizzer chuckled darkly, looking back up into her line of sight. “ ‘s not for me.” He said, the passive aggressiveness soaking his words with the alcohol. He almost tripped over Cordelia, falling suddenly onto his ass, a spike of pain running through his back. “let’s play a game..” he slurred, not even bothered by it.</p>
<p>“I’m not drinking.” Trina replied bluntly, turning to Marvin, pleading silently with her eyes for him to walk her back to her dorm room.</p>
<p>Whizzer laughed, a grating and chilling noise no one in the room had heard before, “what are you, a fucking pussy?” he asked, swaying so violently that Cordelia put an arm onto his shoulder to centre him. He shook it off.</p>
<p>Drunk Whizzer was mean. Drunk Whizzer had no filter. Drunk Whizzer scared Marvin.</p>
<p>“Whizzer, if she says she doesn’t want to drink, she doesn’t have to.” Mendel said, his eyebrows knitting together as he wondered why Marvin wasn’t defending her. He had never seen Whizzer like this before, this was the result of months of pent-up anger and frustration all coming to play.</p>
<p>“fine.” Whizzer brushed his comment away as though it meant nothing, “she can fucking pour.” From nowhere he produced a packet of plastic shot glasses and a bottle of water, clumsily crawling forward as he put them beside the tequila, “game’s Russian roulette but with a twist.” He announced to the group, setting up a circle out of the shot glasses, “we all turn, and the bitch can pour tequila into however many glasses she feels like.” As Marvin went to interject the use of language against his girlfriend, Whizzer snarled, “shut the fuck up Marvin, it’s what you call her behind her back.”</p>
<p>Drunk Whizzer was mean. Drunk Whizzer had no filter. Drunk Whizzer scared Marvin.</p>
<p>“into the remaining glasses she pours water. Then we each take a turn spinning the bottle in the middle and taking the shot it lands on.”</p>
<p>Trina’s sour look was inviting to Whizzer as he leant forward, forcing the bottle into her face. She took it, her jaw clenched, and she shot a pointed look to the guilty faced Marvin.</p>
<p>“what’s the twist?” Charlotte asked, sitting between Trina and her girlfriend, a disapproving scowl being directed straight at him for the amount of alcohol in his blood.</p>
<p>A smirk played Whizzer’s lips, dark and sly as though he’d been planning this for years, “you automatically forfeit if you barf.” He said, “or you can choose to by not drinking. If you forfeit, you have to do one thing. Complete honesty until the last shot is taken.”</p>
<p>Marvin scoffed audibly, and Whizzer’s head snapped to meet him, “Jesus Whizzer, that’s it?” he asked, rolling his eyes at the simplicity.</p>
<p>“the point is that it’s a forfeit, a mercy… unless you have something to hide. Once someone’s forfeited you can ask them anything.”</p>
<p>“what stops me from lying, huh?”</p>
<p>“your dignity. Your pride, everything about you Marvin. Admit it, you’d love for everyone to know your dirty little secrets, I’d sure love mine out there.” He made a random overzealous gesture in the air.</p>
<p>The air erupted into gossiping.</p>
<p>“you’re playing.” Trina hissed to Marvin, loud enough that Whizzer could hear over the underlying whispers between couples as he crawled back to his spot. “okay, close your eyes.” She said above the noise, Whizzer seeing one final sharp look directed to him before he closed his eyes, swaying side to side.</p>
<p>She poured, filling every glass with the potent alcohol. She needed Marvin to tell the truth, she needed to find out who the bitch was.</p>
<p>“okay. Who goes first?” she asked. Whizzer snatched the bottle from her, placing it in the middle.</p>
<p>“how about <em>Marvin?</em>” he snapped. “go on <em>babe</em>,” he said, sarcasm lacing his words, “why don’t <em>you</em> have a go.”</p>
<p>Marvin looked as though he was a deer caught in headlights, blinking rapidly as he shot side eyes at Trina, “fine.” He spun the bottle, looking Whizzer straight in the eye as he took a tequila shot.</p>
<p>“<em>fine</em>.” Whizzer replied, smiling through gritted teeth.</p>
<p>Charlotte and Cordelia shot each other a look, Charlotte leaning in and in a low warning voice, whispered, “Whizzer, I have never seen someone so fucking close to revealing other people’s secrets. Shut the actual fuck up and watch your mouth.”</p>
<p>“watch your own mouth.” Whizzer hissed back, “it’s yours.”</p>
<p>Charlotte rolled her eyes, “I’m not playing, I’ve had a couple of beers and I’ve got a surgery practical in the morning.”</p>
<p>“<em>fine</em>. Guess you’re forfeiting.”</p>
<p>“<em>fine</em>. Cordelia knows everything anyway.” Charlotte shot back.</p>
<p>“actually-“ everyone turned to look at Trina, Cordelia’s hand pausing as she gripped the bottle. “-<em>I</em> want to ask something.”</p>
<p>Charlotte’s passive aggressive smile wavered slightly, “okay…” she said, glancing at Cordelia, who just shrugged, taking a tequila shot and scrunching her nose.</p>
<p>Whizzer rolled his eyes, spinning the bottle.</p>
<p>
  <em>“do you know who Marvin’s cheating on me with?” </em>
</p>
<p>A sudden silence swept through the room, the only noise being the bottle rubbing against the rough carpet.</p>
<p>Marvin’s arm, that was lazily around Trina’s shoulder, suddenly fell.</p>
<p>A lump formed in Whizzer’s throat.</p>
<p>Charlotte’s eyes gave her away, flicking quickly from Trina to Marvin to Whizzer to the floor in less than a millisecond.</p>
<p>“I do.” She whispered.</p>
<p>Trina smiled gently. “will you tell me?” she asked.</p>
<p>The room could hear the pain in her voice, the way it wavered and became slightly higher in pitch as though she was going to cry.</p>
<p>Whizzer took a shot, passing the bottle to Mendel.</p>
<p>“I don’t think it’s my place.” Charlotte replied.</p>
<p>There was a long, tense silence.</p>
<p>Charlotte got up, stretching skyward “I’m going to bed.” She said quietly, bending down to kiss Cordelia on the top of her head and left, leaving them in a heavy silence, the one secret they all shared out in the open.</p>
<p>“it’s your fucking turn Mendel.” Whizzer said, interrupting the tenseness of the air as he forced the bottle in his direction.</p>
<p>Mendel shook his head, “not playing.” He said, stunned like the rest of them.</p>
<p>“fucking pussies, all off you.” Whizzer muttered. There was silence again, “fine, I’ll ask you what everyone else is thinking.” He said, shrugging off the dirty looks he was getting. “when are you going to man up and tell Trina you fucking like her?”</p>
<p>As Whizzer said it, Mendel turned a bright red, and Trina’s head snapped around to watch his reaction.</p>
<p>Marvin growled, “that’s my fucking girlfriend man.”</p>
<p>“who you’re cheating on.” Whizzer butted in like a malicious pixie, “and most of us know who with. Be careful Marvin, be very careful.”</p>
<p>“is- is that true?” Trina asked.</p>
<p>Mendel avoided her eye contact, picking at his fingernails, regretting that he didn’t drink.</p>
<p>Whizzer laughed coldly, “ it’s very true, why don’t you tell her Mendel?”</p>
<p>“you’re a psycho Whizzer.” Mendel muttered, “why are you pitting us against each other?”</p>
<p>Marvin took a shot, passing the bottle to Cordelia.</p>
<p>“why? I’ll tell you why, I’m sick to the teeth with you treating me like your ‘gay toy’, all of you. I’m either the gay best friend or the sexuality experiment.”</p>
<p>Cordelia spun the bottle, taking a shot and passed it to Whizzer, whose face was shaking violently.</p>
<p>“sexuality experiment?” Trina whispered, “who’s using you as a sexuality experiment…”</p>
<p>Her eyes widened and a hurt look flooded her face, her eyes filling with tears. Her head turning to Marvin.</p>
<p>“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cordelia said quietly, not wanting to be involved in the storm that was about to erupt. She got up, a silence in the room she didn’t want to upset as she left, the door clicking closed behind her.</p>
<p>They all sat in silence, Trina beginning to cry and Whizzer smirking across at her.</p>
<p>Marvin stared at the shot glasses in front of him. “I’m going too.” He said, getting up.</p>
<p>But Whizzer stumbled after him, pushing him out of the way and shielded the door with his body. “you’re forfeiting. I think Trina should know the truth.”</p>
<p>“get out of the way Whizzer.” Marvin scoffed, shoving him hard.</p>
<p>He clung to the frame, “I’ll tell her.”</p>
<p>“move.”</p>
<p>“<em>your</em> boyfriend’s been fucking me in <em>your</em> bed, and everyone knew except for <em>you</em>.” He gasped as the slap left a bright red mark on his face, his eyes widening in disbelief as he brought a hand over the stinging site.</p>
<p>Then he laughed, a sound as cold as cutlery scraping a plate.</p>
<p>“hit me again daddy, I dare you.”</p>
<p>“fuck, let me go Whizzer.” Marvin begged, not even a sorry look in his eyes.</p>
<p>“why, so you can be a coward and hide from Trina?” Whizzer’s voice was rising slightly, “face her <em>Babe</em>… face her.” He used the pet names against Marvin, the names that always made him uncomfortable.</p>
<p>Trina looked as though she was about to throw up, leaning on Mendel as he sat stroking her hair. “no, it’s fine.” She whispered.</p>
<p>“for you maybe, but not for me.” Whizzer was on the brink of yelling. Marvin tried to push him again, but Whizzer leapt at him, forcing him to the ground, straddling as he held Marvin’s arms above his head, “imagine how insulting it felt for me to always be your second choice.” His voice wavered as he struggled to keep his arms down, “how you always try to make me into your perfect woman, how you always told me I was never good enough.” Whizzer suddenly broke into tears, “and how you never told me you loved me back, and now I- now I feel stupid.”</p>
<p>He stopped struggling, instead just sitting on Marvin’s lap, tears streaming down his face.</p>
<p>“because I love you, I fucking love you.”</p>
<p>There was a pause and in the wane, Trina and Mendel left, unnoticed.</p>
<p>“you… you do?” Marvin asked, sitting up onto his elbows, his eyes wide.</p>
<p>Whizzer looked away and nodded, sniffling ever so slightly.</p>
<p>There was a long pause where Marvin just gaped at Whizzer, until he finally closed his mouth, swallowing before he replied, “I love you too man.”</p>
<p>Whizzer snorted, “when you add ‘man’ you sound like a dick.”</p>
<p>“you’re a dick.”</p>
<p>“don’t lie, you love my dick.”</p>
<p>“I do. let me help you to bed, you’re wasted.” Marvin said, and Whizzer rolled off of him, giggling quietly.</p>
<p>Marvin held his hand like a child as he led Whizzer to the small sink, brushing his teeth for him, small tears prickling in his eyes as he tucked him into bed.</p>
<p>He fell asleep almost instantly, holding tight onto Marvin’s hand as he curled up in a small ball.</p>
<p>“you won’t remember any of this tomorrow, and it’s probably better if you don’t. I love you, even if you’re a prick, but I know that you’ll run out on me if you remember telling me you do as well.” He breathed out sharply, wiping his eyes quickly, so he wouldn’t cry and kissed Whizzer’s forehead, smelling his hair. “love you Whizz.” </p>
<p> </p>
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<a name="section0032"><h2>32. a conman's kiss part 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It twas mid November when I last posted a part of this story. </p><p>huh. </p><p>anyways there's probably gonna be yet another chapter. why you may ask? because I still haven't got to the end. tis that simple. happy no more Cheeto day, hope all you Americans are celebrating.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Conman’s kiss </p><p>Whizzer, hunched over, took off the hat and put it on top of the banister, slowly pacing up the stairs. His leather shoes creating clicks against the wood, the house creaking as he tried his best to walk silently. He stopped halfway up the stairs, frozen as from the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of something, and turned, tiptoeing fast back down the stairs, his eyes fixed on the dining room. </p><p>He paused at the bottom, reaching into the umbrella stand and pulled out a walking stick, holding it tight in his grasp in case he had to use it, he brought it up as though it were a baseball bat, and from the shadows, his eyes adjusted to see the figure, the man sitting in a chair at the head of the dining table in the dark. </p><p>Whizzer approached him, ready to take a swing when suddenly, the voice broke through the tense silence. </p><p>“I saw the best mind of my generation get run down by the drunken taxicab of absolute reality.” </p><p>Whizzer let out a brief laugh, dropping the cane down to his side, as he turned on the lights, the figure was suddenly bathed in the light, smiling as though he had won something. </p><p>“what the hell, Mendel.” He said, noting how he hadn’t changed since he last saw him, still sporting the tight curls, the glasses that were too small for his face, the badly knitted cardigans. “sitting in the dark misquoting Ginsberg?” He suddenly laughed, approaching him, and wrapped him in an awkward hug, Mendel still sat uncomfortably in the chair, his arms pinned to his side. </p><p>“the light’s how they find you, man.” He said, his voice muffled by Whizzer’s shoulder. </p><p>He let go, pulling back and noticed the plate of food and bottle of wine on the table in front of him, “hey, you know you can’t just help yourself here.” He said, the smile still bright on his face, “how’d you get in?” </p><p>Mendel put his hand up in fist,” I used this.” He said, Whizzer stopped, a disapproving look on his face. “I knocked, wasn’t that clear?” he rolled his eyes, “I introduced myself to Charlotte, she’s great. Did you get a look at the blonde woman?” his voice had a hint of excitedness about it. </p><p>“that’s her wife, works with Agent Marvin Feldman from the FBI.”</p><p>“your handler? Better be careful around her then.” </p><p>There was a comfortable silence as Whizzer walked around the table, taking a seat at the far end, “thanks for coming.” He said sincerely. </p><p>“what was I gonna do? Not come?” Mendel retorted. There was silence again, the only sound being the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall, even and anxiety inducing. “can I see?” Mendel asked, gesturing to Whizzer’s leg.</p><p>He sighed, kicking his foot up so it was resting on a chair, and pulled the trouser leg down a smidge to reveal the ankle monitor, it’s green light flashing tauntingly. “can you pick it?” he asked.</p><p>“no way.” Mendel said, an apologetic look on his face, “no way.” He looked over his glasses, “you flew too close to the sun, my friend.” Whizzer put his leg back down, playing with the head of the walking stick he was still holding, “they burnt your wings.”</p><p>He sat forward, “Where is he, Mendel?” Whizzer suddenly asked, “where’d he go?” </p><p>Mendel sighed, blinking slowly, “he’s a ghost, man. He did an outstanding job of melting away.” </p><p>“please, keep looking. Check France.” He begged, trying to disguise how urgent his voice sounded. </p><p>“France?” Mendel asked, condescending as he looked away from Whizzer.</p><p>“I know, okay? It’s probably nothing. Just… look everywhere. Something else. I need you to help me figure out-“ Whizzer stood up, opening his suit jacket and took out the fake bond he had taken while Marvin wasn’t watching, “- who created this.” </p><p>He put it on the table in front of Mendel who suddenly sat forward. “it’s superb.” He said, removing his glances. From his pocket, he took out a powerful magnifying glass, getting close to the paper as he began to study it. </p><p>“isn’t it.”</p><p>“you know the worse thing about art forgery?” He asked Whizzer, looking up from the paper, his eyebrow raised, “you can’t take credit for your work.”</p><p>Whizzer stood in silence as he realised what Mendel meant, his brain almost visually lighting up. </p><p>-</p><p>Marvin awoke to an empty bed, his arms outstretched along the cotton duvet sheet, reaching for where his wife would usually be, but instead he met a cool imprint. He sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and moseyed to the en suite lathering his face up with shaving foam and plugged in his electric razor into the socket above the mirror. </p><p>He contorted his face as he gently shaved it, the silence in the house unnerving for a weekend, usually Jason would be yelling and running around the house by now, and Trina would be cooking breakfast, banging pots and pans around to wake him up in the most passive aggressive way possible. But today there was nothing, not even the creaking of the floorboards. He paused halfway through shaving, leaning out, so he could see into the hall, “Trina?” he called out. </p><p>Nothing. He was slightly worried now. </p><p>He quickly finished shaving, pulling on a dirty white loose fitting t shirt from the wash basket, and listened for a moment. “honey?” </p><p>He splashed his face clean with water, about to go downstairs when his phone rang from the bedroom. He picked it up third ring, lazily putting it to his ear. </p><p>“yeah, this is Feldman.” He said, rummaging through his Wife’s bedside table for no reason. </p><p>“it’s Cordelia. Brown’s ankle is activated. Is he with you?” </p><p>Marvin froze, looking up, “no. I’m coming.” He said, throwing his phone, still on call, onto the bed. He quickly put on a suit jacket over the t shirt, crinkling the neat ironing, and threw a tie, undone, around his neck. </p><p>He picked up the phone again, Cordelia still speaking “it’s alright, I’ve got jones on it. We’re pulling the locations.”</p><p>He ran down the stairs, yelling over the phone, “ Trina, I’ve gotta go. Whizzer’s outside his radius—” </p><p>He froze as he reached the bottom of the stairs, head snapping around to see Whizzer sat playing with Jason as Trina slammed a mug of coffee onto the table in front of him. </p><p>“Marvin? You still there?” </p><p>They looked up at him, a scowl engraved deep into Trina’s face, a playful smile on Whizzers, and Jason was oblivious, playing chess and pulling on Whizzer’s perfectly expensive cuff to signify it was his go. </p><p>“Brown is with me.” He said firmly, an angry look hidden behind the cool words. </p><p>“you sure? Because we—”</p><p>Marvin finished walking down the stairs. “yeah. Yeah.” He hung up, staring as Whizzer took a move on the chess board. </p><p>“hi honey.” Trina said through gritted teeth.</p><p>Whizzer smiled in his usual cocky condescending way. “Marv.”</p><p>“Agent Feldman.” He corrected</p><p>“I know.” </p><p>“you’re on my couch.” Marvin said, gesturing angrily, a dark contrast to the light voice he spoke with.</p><p>Whizzer took a sip of the coffee, “I came to talk to you. And frankly, Marvin, I have to say I’m surprised you have such an amazing wife and child.” He raised his eyebrow and Marvin could almost hear the subtext; whizzer was surprised he still had a wife. Whizzer thought he was gay.</p><p>Marvin smiled coldly “yeah, I like her.” His smile dropped “Get off my couch.” </p><p>“honey, we’re just chatting.” Trina said again through gritted teeth, trying not to let Whizzer know how uncomfortable she was to have him over. </p><p>“chatting?” Marvin said, this time the anger clear in his voice, “how did you get here?”  </p><p>Whizzer cocked his head, “cab.” </p><p>“you activated your tracker! You’re in my house, on my couch, with my wife.” Marvin said, the disbelief noticeable from the size of his gestures. </p><p>Whizzer put his hands up in mock surrender, “I’m gay.” He said, making a face. Jason pulled on his sleeve again, and Whizzer turned back to the board, “ah! You beat me kid!” he exclaimed, putting his hand out for a high five, much to the disapproval of Trina. </p><p>“Now you’re playing with my child.” Marvin said, walking away to pour himself his own coffee. </p><p>“Did you really put Trina under surveillance before you asked her out?” Whizzer called after him. Marvin stopped dead in his tracks, turning back to Trina, an angry look on his face. “Marv, I really underestimated you.” </p><p>As he said the nickname, Trina flinched, hard, staring at Whizzer. </p><p>“you told him.” Marvin stated, biting the inside of his cheek. </p><p>Trina swallowed, “ oh he said he wanted to make sure I wasn’t seeing anybody else. I think It’s cute.” The plain nature of her tone contrasted her words </p><p>“I think it’s adorable.” Whizzer added, his eyebrow raised. </p><p>Marvin massaged his temples, “I’m putting you back in prison.” He said, dialling a number on his phone. </p><p>Whizzer stood up, “I know who the dutchman is.” He said.</p><p>Marvin almost dropped his phone, but still kept his stare cold as though he were trying to see into Whizzer’s soul as he spoke, “enlighten me.” </p><p>“Curtis Hagen” Marvin shook his head, “he’s an art restorer,” Whizzer added, “one of the best in the world, but his own work never took off.” Marvin’s eyebrows were slowly finding each other in the centre of his fore head. “ he’s particularly good at Goya restorations. That’s what this is, agent Feldman, the bond is him showing off.”</p><p>“it’s an interesting theory.” Marvin said, weighing his thoughts in his head, “but it’s just a theory, how are you going to prove it.” </p><p>Whizzer smiled cockily, “he signed it.” </p><p>“I think we might’ve noticed” Marvin retorted. “a signature tucked in the corner is hardly invisible.” Whizzer pulled the bond out from the inside of a book, “you stole the evidence.” Marvin said, his head in his hand, “Jesus fucking Christ.” </p><p>“language.” Trina snapped, cleaning up Jason’s chess board as he sulked in the corner. </p><p>Whizzer beckoned him, pointing at the bond, “look at the pants on the Spanish peasant.” Marvin picked up the bond, holding it at an odd angle so he could get close enough to the parchment, “what do you see? it’s the initials C and H” </p><p>Marvin scoffed quietly, “I don’t know. That’s a stretch.” </p><p>Whizzer leant in close, so he could also see the bond, “ this bond is a masterpiece, “ he said, his voice a gentle whisper that made Marvin shiver slightly, “if I’d done something this good, I would’ve signed it.” He pulled back, his voice normal and smirked, “the forgeries you caught me on, I signed them.” </p><p>Marvin’s head snapped around, “where?” </p><p>“look at the bank seal under polarized light sometime.” Whizzer shrugged. “Hagen is doing a church restoration on 3rd street. We can stop by on our way in.”</p><p>Marvin took a large inhale, “fine.” He said, reluctantly, putting down the bond, “meet me in the car.” Whizzer nodded, clueless. “I’m going to say goodbye to my wife now.”</p><p>“ohh…” he laughed, “it was nice to meet you Trina, you too Jason.” </p><p>“nice to see you again after all these years.” Trina said, very passive aggressively. </p><p>-</p><p>“this is it?” Marvin asked as they stood in the large church, looking up at the high ceiling.</p><p>Whizzer turned to him, “yep.” He took a quick look at Marvin, up and down before he crinkled his nose. “wait a second.” He took the untied tie that was wrapped around Marvin’s neck, and gently tied it, his fingers brushing lightly against his chest. Marvin watched his face, deep in concentration, biting his lip gently as he tightened the knot, pulling it up. “doesn’t work without a collar.” Whizzer whispered, his face barely a centimetre away from Marvin’s. </p><p>“you can’t come in. we’re closed for restoration!” </p><p>Marvin leapt away from Whizzer as a priest walked up between the pews, Whizzer’s fingers were still interlaced with the tie, and Marvin almost bounced straight back, his face suddenly blushing bright red. “oh, sorry, father.” He tried to leave, but again, Whizzer pulled him back by his tie. </p><p>“could we just—? Could we just have a moment?” He led the priest down to the alter so they were out of Marvin’s earshot. “thank you.” He called out to Marvin before lowering his voice to a whisper “ Father, my ‘friend’ is having a crisis of the soul. He’s a married man, and he has the most devastatingly handsome assistant at work.” Whizzer said, his hand on the priest’s arm. </p><p>“handsome?” </p><p>“yes, he is… a homosexual and his assistant is a very very provocative man. He’s been tempted. More than tempted, I have details, apparently he’s talented with his mouth.” </p><p>Together the pair turned to stare at Marvin, aimlessly sidling through the pews, accidentally knocking a bible to the floor. </p><p>The priest let out a huff, “well, being tempted by another Is very common with men his age. Unfortunately very common.” Whizzer nodded along sympathetically.</p><p>Whizzer suddenly adopted an innocent expression, “and I want to confront him about this before he tears his life apart. Look, he has a lot of faults, but does his wife really need to know about them? a lot of faults, don’t even get me started, he’s a mess. But he’s very spiritual.” </p><p>He followed the priests gaze to Marvin yawning with his entire body, looking very out of place. He cringed. </p><p>“I know this is the place where my words will have the most effect.” </p><p>The priest sighed “I’m sorry child, but this is the city of churches and we’re closed, there’s another right down the block--” </p><p>“this is where he was married.” Whizzer interrupted, gazing at the man forlornly. </p><p>The priest sighed, “five minutes.” </p><p>“thank you. Thank you, father.” Whizzer smiled brightly, quickly going back to Marvin, and grabbed his arm, “sorry about that. We got five.” He whispered. </p><p>Marvin waved to the priest as they sped through the church, “did you just lie to a priest?” </p><p>“Do you think I’m attractive?” Whizzer asked.</p><p>“sure.” </p><p>“then we’re good. I am talented with my mouth, thank you so much for saying so.” He gushed, leading Marvin to the religious paintings that were ceiling high as a confused look sprouted over his face. They stopped at a statue; half covered in tarpaulin. “ extraordinary.” Whizzer said, in awe as he stared open mouthed at the marble.</p><p>“real nice.” </p><p>He turned to Marvin, a disappointed look clouding his features, “did you just say, ‘real nice’. This is centuries old; it deserves a little more eloquence than ‘real nice’.” </p><p>Marvin ignored him, “if this Hagen guy is as good as you say, how come I’ve never heard of him?”</p><p>Whizzer climbed the stepladder, examining the statue as he pulled back the dark tarp “you only know the guys who get caught. you know, the second-best criminals.” He got up close to the statue, feeling the marble, not concentrating on what he was saying.</p><p>“what does that say about you?” Marvin asked </p><p>Whizzer turned back to him, eyes dark and threatened “it says there’s an exception to every rule puppy.” He turned back, his eyes catching the tiny imperfection, “look. C and H!” he exclaimed.</p><p>“Where?” Marvin got up onto the step ladder with him, faces extremely close together as Whizzer pointed it out, “I don’t see it.” </p><p>Whizzer rolled his eyes, “here.” He yanked Marvin’s wrist to the wall, tracing his fingers over the tiny indents. He let go of Marvin and suddenly lost his balance, teetering on the step ladder, when Marvin grabbed his waist, pulling him close as the ladder steadied. “hi.” Whizzer whispered, his forehead touching Marvin’s. He could smell the cigarettes on his breath that Marvin only smoked when he worked an impossible case, disguised by the lemon sherbets he kept in the glove box of his car. </p><p>“hi.” Marvin whispered back, trying not to think about how firm Whizzer’s lower back was. </p><p>“can I help you, gentlemen?” A taught English accent cut through the moment, Marvin’s eyes opening wide as though they had been caught. His head whipped around, Whizzer following slowly as he became detached from Marvin. </p><p>He kinda liked it. </p><p>“your face.” The European man pointed at Whizzer, “your face is familiar.” Slowly, they got down from the step ladder, “maybe I’ve seen it on the news, or perhaps on a most-wanted web page” He sidled up to the pair, face almost unreadable.</p><p>“Whizzer Brown.”</p><p>He put out his hand, but the man just looked at it, “forgive me if I don’t shake hands with an art thief.”</p><p>Whizzer smiled passive aggressively, “I was never arrested for art theft.” His hand relaxed back down to his thigh.</p><p>“not arrested. But, as I recall, you were known as quite the renaissance criminal, so you can understand my concern at having you in my space.” He watched as Marvin paced around the sculpture, his eyes narrowing, “and you are?” he asked with a raised voice. </p><p>“just a…” Marvin looked to Whizzer, “friend.” </p><p>“my lover.” Whizzer said, smirking back. </p><p>“well, lover or friend, this church is closed.” A warm smile lit up his face and he gestured to the door, “it was a pleasure meeting you… the infamous Whizzer brown and his…friend.” </p><p>Whizzer took a brief look at Marvin, and they left, pacing quickly down the aisle. “did you see it?” Whizzer asked as soon as they were out of earshot.</p><p>“okay, you got me curious, we’ll check him out.”  Marvin replied, his voice quiet and low. </p><p>“listen to the spirit, son, not the flesh.” The priest said as they passed him on their way out. </p><p>Marvin stopped, his eyebrow quirked, “I’ll do that.” He said, nodding as though he understood what he was talking about. He ran to catch up with Whizzer out on the front steps, “what was that about?” he asked.</p><p>Whizzer grinned, cattishly, “ better if you don’t know.” He said, trying to force the smile away.</p>
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<a name="section0033"><h2>33. bakery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this is inspired by a tiktok on lena Dunhams story. </p><p>that's it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bakery </p><p>“hello ma’am, how can I help you today.”</p><p>Whizzer Brown wouldn’t say working in a bakery was fun exactly, but it paid the bills. His boss was nice enough to let him bring his textbooks in as he worked the evening shift, allowing him to get a little studying in before his college classes the next morning.</p><p>The evening was almost always empty, the warm light from the shop spilling out onto the pavement, the cool blue from the street making Whizzer feel grateful that he was inside. </p><p>Usually there were stragglers, the workaholic husbands with the dark bags beneath their eyes who would only grunt in response to Whizzer refilling their coffee cup, the occasional teenagers out on an awkward first date, sometimes an older guy Whizzer would slip his phone number to. </p><p>Sometimes these would lead to a date, most times going back to their apartment, never seeing them again. </p><p>So there Whizzer stood behind the counter, staring at some random women sketching eyes in her margins as he leant his chin on the back of his hand. Trying to stop thinking. He stood up straight as the bell from the door sounded, and he rubbed his wrists, his forehead creasing as he saw the bruises. </p><p>Last night’s host hadn’t been the nicest. It became quite awkward to be honest, Whizzer would usually leave straight away, or share a cigarette in bed like a lesbian, but the guy from last night finished and then started crying. He felt bad, contrasting what people expected from him, he still had a moral compass, so when he saw this man, who was probably double his age, crying like a child, he stayed. </p><p>Something about a wife and not being gay.</p><p>He shrugged off the guilt, watching the women approach the counter. She looked exhausted, she also looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it. </p><p>“hello ma’am, how can I help you today.” He asked, smiling brightly. </p><p>“um…” she seemed spacy, her eyes scanning over the array of cakes “do you have any caramel cakes?” she asked, finally meeting Whizzer’s gaze. </p><p>The smile stayed glued to his face as he gestured to a cake above the glass screen, “ I have a caramel mousse cake?”</p><p>“and do you know when it was made?” </p><p>“oh, this morning. All our cakes are fresh out of the oven.” He was bubbly, feeling as though the women needed something to cheer her up. </p><p>“perfect! He hates caramel.” For the first time, he saw her smile and he froze, making an involuntary confused face before he smiled again. </p><p>He slowly reached into the counter, making sure he carefully lifted out the cake. “okay…” Whizzer held out the cake, showing the women the pale golden mousse top. “how’s this?” </p><p>“perfect thank you-“ she said, rooting through her handbag, “-would it be any trouble for you to pipe something on it?” she asked, freezing as she was about to hand over her credit card. </p><p>Whizzer kept a perfect smile “oh, no trouble at all. What would you like it to say.”</p><p>The women thought for a second, “good riddance.” </p><p>Whizzer’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “you want it to say, ‘good riddance’?” </p><p>“would you do that for me?” She asked ,”I mean, I don’t want to force you to doing something you’re uncomfortable-“</p><p>“no no no, of course. Would you like to come back and pick it up in an hour…”</p><p>“I’ll wait.” Whizzer smiled, placing the cake down on the counter, curiosity officially spiked. “oh and can you add some flowers and hearts and just make it really girly and nice?”</p><p>“um… alright.” He went to the fridge, getting out a pink icing bag and in beautiful cursive, began piping onto the cake, looking up every now and again to watch the woman standing, tapping her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m sorry, do you want me to make you coffee or anything?”</p><p>“do you have tea?” </p><p>“I’ll make you a cup.” As Whizzer turned, he suddenly heard a broken sob and, without meaning to, instantly turned around to see the woman suddenly crying with her head in her hands. “oh god, what’s happening?” </p><p>“I am so sorry, oh my gosh.” She said, wiping her eyes as she quickly tried to compose herself. </p><p>Whizzer smiled, turning back to the industrial sized coffee machine and pressed several buttons, standing awkwardly as he waited for the water to boil. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, but does this have something to do with the cake?” He asked as he added milk and a sugar cube, she struck him as a sugar kind of lady. </p><p>“my husband cheated on me last night. I’m using the cake to break up with him.”</p><p>“okay, here for the energy, loving it.” Whizzer said, passing the tea over the counter, “I’ll make it super passive aggressive.” </p><p>The woman smiled, her eyes red and bloodshot, “thank you sir.” </p><p>Whizzer kept piping, “if you want to vent, just go for it, my shifts almost up and I’m shattered, this may be the thing that keeps me awake.” </p><p>“you must be.” She muttered quietly.</p><p>“sorry what?” Whizzer asked, looking up from piping a flower in pale pink. </p><p>The woman smiled, but it was chilly, “you’re young, I’m guessing college student?” </p><p>“correct ma’am.” Whizzer smiled, “college, work and dating, that’s my life at the moment.” </p><p>“oh gosh, am I glad I’m not dating today.”</p><p>“it’s difficult, I end up with just one night stands usually, doesn’t help that I’m into older… people. I gave the person I was with last night, head, and then they just began crying, so I stayed the night, left early this morning. They had a double bed, it was nice.” </p><p>“oh.” The woman responded, her words thin and almost transparent like a ghost. </p><p>Whizzer went to the fridge, removing the chocolate hearts and white chocolate covered strawberries, arranging them with precision onto the cake, “how did you find out he was cheating?” he asked. </p><p>The woman let out a huff “I was meant to stay the night with my parents, but I left my anxiety medication at home, so I left my son at his grandparents, drove back and walked in on my husband asleep, another man lying next to him.”</p><p>“oh.” </p><p>“oh.” She repeated, a chill in her tone. </p><p>Whizzer continued to decorate the cake, waving goodbye to the final customer until he was left alone with the woman. “so he doesn’t know you know?” </p><p>“nope.” </p><p>“damn, wish I could see his face…” Whizzer said, smiling to himself. </p><p>The woman straightened up, “I could give you a lift home if you want, I live on the upper east side.”</p><p>“oh my dorm’s upper east, I would love that, thank you so much.” </p><p>He finished the cake, doing a quick wipe down of all the surfaces before he locked up, pulling the grate down over the front window. The drive was quick, and each minute Whizzer spent with the women, the more he recognised her, but still, her face was just out of sight, never sure how he knew her. They pulled up outside a house he also recognised, again, he wasn’t sure how. </p><p>“here, you can meet my husband if you want.” The woman said as she turned off the engine. </p><p>Whizzer got out of the small car, holding the cake box, and followed her to the front door.</p><p>It hit him as the door opened, he hadn’t exactly been sober the night before. </p><p>“oh fuck.” Marvin and Whizzer said in unison as they saw each other.</p><p>“I believe you’ve met my husband.” Trina said through clenched teeth. She pried the box out of Whizzer’s hands, handing it to Marvin, “this is for you, and this-“ She pulled her hand back and slapped Whizzer hard, her wedding ring leaving a mark on his face, “-is for you” She put up her middle fingers and backed out to the car, “have fun fucking each other.”</p>
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<a name="section0034"><h2>34. painting class (final part)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>wow, it's been a while since I last wrote a part of this. this is the final part and I am very happy with how this cute lil mind thing came out. anyways, hope ya'll enjoy, it's kind of sad and imma say trigger warnings at the end, suicide, nothing specific but it's melancholy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Art class</p><p>Whizzer moved in, reluctantly of course. I’m not sure whether he was actually grateful or not, it made my life both easier and harder. I was no longer as anxious about Trina rooting through my stuff, Whizzer’s things were bound to get mixed up with mine now that we lived together, but there were a couple of close calls. Trina using her keys, that I gave her to keep up appearances that we weren’t grinding to a sudden halt and coming in unannounced just after we had finished fucking, sometimes half dressed, sometimes Whizzer almost announcing that he was satisfied for a change as he got out of the shower.</p><p>It wasn’t long until I found out the real reason she forced me to join her at that fucking art class to try and reconnect.</p><p>Photographs.</p><p>I refused to change a thing about my apartment, no matter how much Whizzer begged, which was <em>a lot. </em>But the one thing I let him do was bring his work home, turns out being a college art teacher is much more work than I thought. Our floor (note how it’s singular) was stacked now with portfolios and equipment, most of the black objects alien to me. Sometimes I would come home after one of my writing benders and his head would bolt around to see me, sitting in a web of photographs, his eyes wide, sleep deprived and dark, the pitch-black apartment around him making him look like he was in a horror movie.</p><p>He would hang up photographs soaked in gamsol and other solvents, onto strings he had hooked across the room, and I would have to duck to wade through them, following his very specific rules as I tried to find him in the maze, and then one day.</p><p>One day it was all gone as though it had disappeared, just when I had got used to it.</p><p>In it’s place, covering the walls were photographs much better than what previously subsided. Black and White photographs that were sensual and thought provoking, male figures, almost all naked.</p><p>I reached out to touch the wall as I saw a figure I recognised. my own. My back was facing the camera, a perfect slit of light cascading over the muscle, a perfect stopping point where the cover met my ass.</p><p>All the photographs strategically taken so they weren’t exposing a person’s face or genitals, the occasional image of someone awake, them being the ones who you could see their whole face or body. I guess it had something to do with consent.</p><p>I ripped the photo of me off of the wall, my eyes narrowing as I stared at it.</p><p>“hey babe-“ I spun around, seeing Whizzer with his sunglasses over his eyes and a bright pink Starbucks in his hand, gripping a black portfolio in his other, a different one to what I had seen his students use when I would sometimes write in his class. I found it nice, easy concentrating when I could hear his melodic voice talking passionately about photography. I would sit in the dark room, just able to hear it through the heavy door.</p><p>We would have sex after class. It was hot. A student walked in on us once.</p><p>“oh-“ his voice cracked as he saw me holding the photo.</p><p>“what the fuck Whizzer.” I exclaimed, the photograph scrunching into a ball as I saw red, “you took photographs of me? Who are these people!?”</p><p>He put down the portfolio carefully on the table, a cautious but bright smile on his face, “I didn’t want to tell anyone until it was certain, but I got a show at this big gallery.”</p><p>“a show? You took photographs of me without my fucking permission, if Trina saw these she would… she would…”</p><p>“okay just stop. No one can even tell it’s you!” his smile had dropped faster than his pants when we had sex, “can’t you just be fucking happy for me for a change. My dreams are <em>finally</em> coming true, there’s meant to be a huge donor coming, and, and people who want to actually buy my art!”</p><p>“I am happy for you, just keep my fucking face out of it.”</p><p>Whizzer laughed coldly, “your face isn’t in it!” he took off his sunglasses and stormed up to me, prising the photo of me out of my hands, “ do you even care about how big this is for me, do you even want to know what I’m showing?”</p><p>“I’m guessing that!” I yelled pointing at the wall.</p><p>He smoothed out the photograph as best as he could, a pained look overcoming his face.</p><p>We had painful sex that afternoon, good the way he liked, but emotionally draining. My stomach hurt afterwards when he instantly put on a pair of jeans, not even bothering with boxers, a sweater and left, not saying a word.</p><p>
  <em>I don’t want to be just another body on your wall. I want to be the only one.</em>
</p><p>Left me laying on the bed, exposed.</p><p>We didn’t really talk for almost a month, our paths hardly ever crossing, our interactions awkward and quiet, filled with silence. Then one day, I got an envelope in the mail, my name beautifully hand scripted on the front.</p><p>An invitation, me and a plus one to one of the most exclusive galleries in the city.</p><p>He still invited me.</p><p>Of course I ended up taking Trina, and for a change, I wore something I knew he’d like. A tuxedo I rented, slick and tight, the bowtie taking several attempts before I managed to actually tie it. I took the L to Trina’s parent’s house, waited outside for her, a cigarette dangling between my lips.</p><p>A habit he seemed to have left with me.</p><p>As soon as she saw me, she rolled her eyes, strutting up to me in her heels that made her taller than me, and instantly ripped it out of my mouth, throwing it on the floor, grinding it harshly beneath her feet.</p><p>“you look beautiful tonight.” I said as I put out my arm for her. She linked hers in mine, leaning on me as we walked.</p><p>I lied. Well, almost.</p><p>She was beautiful, she’s always been beautiful, but I’ve come to realise that maybe her beauty was more of a mercy for me. I was attracted to her because she was innocent, she didn’t seem like she needed intimacy from me, I judged poorly as usual, but maybe in some world we would’ve made better friends the partners.</p><p>Maybe in some world.</p><p>“you like it?” she whispered, her eyes large and sincere.</p><p>She was referring to her dress, which honestly I didn’t like. It was loose fitting, flowy and a biting red, she wore a fur throw around her shoulders, it cascaded down to her stomach, but in a staged way that confused me.</p><p>I did like the stuff she’d put on her eyes, shimmery and a beautiful silver tone that brought out the grey in her eyes.</p><p>But I bit my tongue, smiling to her, “yes.”</p><p>We took the subway to the gallery, the irony was heavily present as we stood in the crowded cart, bodies pressed up to each other, the stale smell of stranger’s breaths around us. Us in our best clothes, the world around us dressed for the apocalypse…</p><p>Somehow incredibly fitting to how oblivious I was to how far my life would fall.</p><p>Men would push up against her, and I watched how uncomfortable she was, how her jaw would tighten and if they made any comments about her, she would let out a series of non-threatening girlish giggle that weren’t believable in the slightest.</p><p>I held onto her tight and as soon as we got to times square, got off, semi running in our ballgowns and tuxedos through the throngs of crowds, tourists, people stopping at the top of escalators, people staring at their phones.</p><p>There’s something beautifully haunting about living in the greatest city in the world and most people missing the tiny moments in their hurry.</p><p>We made it to the gallery just on time, slipping in to the back of the crowd gathered around a small platform, Whizzer speaking on the the stage. I almost froze in my tracks as I saw him, his tight suit, so tight, so perfect, the ironed pleats sharp, the way he had slicked his hair back instead of letting it fall forward as he would usually.</p><p>There will always be something about him that I will never be able to forget.</p><p>His eyes met mine and he hesitated for a second.</p><p>Something so uncharacteristic for him, something that I pride myself in being able to do.</p><p>I didn’t listen to his speech, I just watched, clinging to every single word.</p><p>“hey. Marv- Marvin right?” my head swung around to see the art class teacher and her girlfriend, the one who modelled with Whizzer.</p><p>“oh hello!” I managed to get out, wracking my brain for their names. “um it’s ni-“</p><p>“Cordelia, Charlotte, it’s nice to see you.” Trina saved me in my floundering, kissing their cheeks. She seemed tense again, that happens around gay people, It’s the conservative upbringing. “charlotte your dress is to die for and Cordelia, those shoes!” I could sense she was trying to point out which was which for me and I silently nodded a thank you.</p><p>“you look lovely-“ the woman, I guess Cordelia said, before turning pointedly to me, “Whizzer invited you?”</p><p>“yes.”</p><p>They knew. They definitely knew.</p><p>“why don’t we go look at his art.” Was all Cordelia said in response. I took Trina’s arm again, following the lesbians around the gallery, seeing photos I recognised, seeing photos that I hadn’t paid much attention too when they were strung up around the room.</p><p>Seeing photos that he had yelled at me for accidentally touching as I tried to arrange my novel’s pages.</p><p>I had almost finished my novel, I just hadn’t decided on an ending, there were several, I just didn’t know which way to go.</p><p>“You came!” I heard Whizzer’s voice from behind me and I turned as he flung himself at Charlotte and Cordelia. Embracing them with energy I had never seen before.</p><p>“whizz! I love this so much!” I zoned out, watching them. hug’s, tears, excitement. suddenly we were offered champagne and crudités, Trina declining both.</p><p>And then he turned to me, “Marvin.”</p><p>“Whizzer.” I downed the champagne, it was good stuff, it was also all bubbles and did nothing.</p><p>He sighed, smiling brightly, thinking back on it, smiling wickedly. “I have a piece I want to show you.”</p><p>Trina shot me a confused look and I just smiled, a small shrug as we followed him. We rounded a corner and there it was.</p><p>The wall of photos, of naked men. The wall that caused our fight. The title below read, ‘to all the men I’ve ever slept with.’ This time I recognised the sheer volume of images, larger than were on our apartment wall by a long shot.</p><p>“like it Marvin?” He asked me maliciously. I turned to him, biting the inside of my cheeks, afraid that Trina would notice my reaction and ask about it.</p><p>“Marvin?” In my attempts to hide my anger I hadn’t noticed Trina getting suspiciously close to the wall. “is this you?”</p><p>My heart stopped, “of course not.” I said, staring at Whizzer still. I languished in the iciness of his eyes, the hatred, I tried to stay calm, somehow they helped.</p><p>“no, Marvin this is definitely you.”</p><p>“Trina, how many times do I—”</p><p>It wasn’t the photo I had crumpled up; it wasn’t a barely recognisable silhouette of me. Instead it was me from the last time we fucked, I hadn’t even remembered him taking it.</p><p>It was me, nude, seated on the bed, our bed, and him on his knees, sitting up to meet me in a kiss. Right in the centre. Malicious and staged. The one coloured photo, taken to create contrast, taken to make it stand out. A brilliant red shade, taken as though the lights were luminescent. Our bodies making a heart shaped silhouette.</p><p>“baby I—”</p><p>Beneath the wall there was a note. ‘to all the men I’ve ever slept with, and the only one I loved.’ </p><p>“no.” she put her hand out to silence me and I instantly shut my mouth. “no you can’t be gay- I need you.”</p><p>“I’m not gay, it was a one-time thing, I was curious and-“</p><p>“because I’m pregnant.”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>It suddenly made sense.</p><p>We all stared at her, her loose-fitting clothes, the way she had be extra touchy, the way she had been careful around food and drink.</p><p>The way she tried to find that spark a couple of months ago, tried to coax the kindling to light one final time.</p><p>She flung herself at me, her hands gripping my back, an ecstatic smile on her face and I couldn’t do anything, except for stare at Whizzer without hugging her back, my heart snapping and breaking, my arms dangling helplessly.</p><p>Seeing the hurt look in his eyes, seeing him bring a hand up to his face and wipe the tears away, shaking silently. Seeing Charlotte take his hand, seeing Cordelia shake her head viciously at me.</p><p>“he loved you.” She whispered after she stole a moment with me, “you’re the only person he’s ever loved, and you screwed it up.” She had a shaking anger following her in her wake as she flew after Whizzer.</p><p>I never saw Whizzer Brown again, but he was everywhere.</p><p>I still think of him, I still think of the way his hair fell forward over his face, how his eyes crinkled and disappeared when he laughed. How everything was a game to him, how some of the happiest moments of my life were spent with him, our finger’s intertwined as we lay in bed, laughing and convincing ourselves we could stay there forever.</p><p>I finished my novel. It was easy in the end, a metaphor for my closeted life. The painter ends up alone, confined only by his paints and the walls around him.</p><p>He shoots himself in the head only for his work to become worth millions after his death.</p><p>That’s the irony about artists, they’re worth much more dead.</p><p>I saw his face on a billboard in time’s square years later advertising an art show when I was taking my son to the natural history museum, it must’ve been ten or so years, but he hadn’t changed.</p><p>We took a detour, instead going to the gallery, and that was where I was met with the painful truth, the monster that watches over you as you sleep. The photo in the lobby, the one of us, blown up so it was almost life sized.</p><p>Beneath it were two dates, a birthday and a death date.</p><p>And the description.</p><p>‘Whizzer Brown and unknown man from his series, ‘to all the men I’ve slept with’. The only photograph he ever took of himself.</p><p>Numb. “I’m sorry, what happened?” I asked the women as I bought my son and I a ticket.</p><p>She chewed her gum in a bored fashion. Disrespectful. “are you sure this is the right exhibit to show your son?” she asked, her New York accent thick and loud, her vowels trumpeting and her gum making loud chewing sounds.</p><p>“he’s <em>my</em> son.” I spat spitefully, “ what happened to the artist?”</p><p>She tapped her long acrylic nails on the desk. “ AIDs. He read ‘an artist’s rouse’ and decided suicide was the poetic way to go.” She tried to speed me along, but I couldn’t feel anything, “he has a whole section of his work dedicated to the book, he called it ‘the irony about artists’”</p><p>She handed me a flyer. His suicide note printed onto the cheap shiny paper, my eyes glimpsing familiar words that <em>I</em> had sculpted for hours and hours to make sure they were perfect ‘to go out without care, my head high in the air.’ Ones written in my first draft, but discarded later, ones no one else could’ve seen. But him.</p><p>
  <em>“What are you writing about?” He asked me and I blushed. I don’t know why I blushed; I just did. I hadn’t told anyone what I was writing about, especially not Trina, it was a sensitive subject.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I really don’t want anyone reading until I finish.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He dragged a finger from my chest up to my chin, taking it with his thumb, “I read a page.” </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I closed the gap between us slightly, looking down to his lips, ”you did?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Uh huh.” He leant in so close I could feel his breath on me, smelling the mint gum which he obviously used to get rid of the cigarettes that clung to his aura. My breath failed me, shaking at his closeness, anticipation waiting for his next move.</em>
</p><p>I felt the tears prickle in my eye, but I swallowed them, my larynx rising, “he shot himself?” I whispered.</p><p>“you know the book?”</p><p>I shook my head, taking Jason’s hand and I led him into the large gallery.</p><p>“why did you lie to the woman?” He asked quietly. “you wrote it.”</p><p>Because son, that man was the only person I have truly loved, that man was the reason I stayed in New York, just for the chance that I could see him again. I broke him, and I never made amends, I am the unknown man, I am in the only portrait he ever took of himself, and I am the reason he is dead. Because son, the truth acts like a knife and once you admit it to yourself, the guilt will kill you before anything else.</p><p>I didn’t answer.</p><p>The irony about artists is that they are worth much more dead than alive.</p><p>The irony about humans, is that the memories they leave behind, are worth much more than their life. We view them with excessive sentimentality, forgetting their flaws.</p><p>If I am to die, I would like my flaws to be remembered because flaws are the things that make us human.</p><p>Because even Whizzer Brown, the person I saw as perfect, had flaws.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0035"><h2>35. As quoting Whizzer Brown "if only I was a fucking necrophile"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>so I really liked writing this, I might do a couple more parts, pls comment if you liked it too, I would really appreciate it ;).</p><p>as you can probably tell, I have fun naming things.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hiding in a hotel closet wasn’t exactly the way Whizzer Brown had expected to spend his Friday night, but that was where he ended up. He had planned on going out and getting railed, but when a favour calls, you answer.</p><p><em>Maybe I’ll bump into someone on the way out, </em>he thought to himself, sighing quietly.</p><p>He knelt down in the darkness, slats of light from the wooden closet door pooling over his briefcase on the floor, illuminating the leather, and opened it.</p><p>He was used to the metallic smell now, liked it even. Whizzer reached in, gently taking out folded shirt after folded shirt until he reached the faux bottom. He slid his hand over his ass, until he felt the tight jean pocket, and reached in. He brought the small pencil sharpener blade out carefully, so he didn’t slice his leather gloves, they were expensive, and picked at the thin lining with a steady hand. It peeled up revealing the foam protective layer.</p><p>He was careful to be quiet as he assembled the rifle, flinching as each part clicked together louder than life. He didn’t need the light; he had practiced assembling and disassembling it blindfolded over and over again. He finished with a satisfying ‘click’ and held the gun up, checking through the sight. Off by a fraction of a millimetre and his own head would be on the line.</p><p>He smiled as he pretended to shoot it, god if only ten-year-old Whizzer would know how much better it all got. He gently put it back down and picked up the handgun beside it, slipping a silencer into place over the muzzle. He replaced the magazine, clicking back the hammer.</p><p>Maybe the closet would be better than the poor, meaningless fuck he had expected to go down.</p><p>He laughed to himself. <em>Closet</em>, hadn’t been there in a long time.</p><p>“honey, are you done yet?” Whizzer froze as he heard the man yell out from his east, and his hand clenched around the knife on his belt as the sound of dampened footsteps came closer.</p><p>They stopped as he heard the door creak open. He assumed bathroom, but he couldn’t be sure with it being such a large suit. “yes darling.”</p><p>He could almost hear the man’s breath being taken away as his words faltered for a moment, “ w-wow- you look—”</p><p>“stunning, yes I know.” The woman interrupted. Whizzer smirked; this was his kind of lady.</p><p>Pity she would have to die soon.</p><p>“well-“ he could hear the seductive tone in the man’s voice, ‘I was going to say ravishing—” Whizzer bit the inside of his cheek. English accents turned him the fuck on. “-but stunning will do.” The woman began to laugh softly, and Whizzer smiled, peering through the crack in the door, watching the pair sway back and forth for a moment as though they were slow dancing to imaginary music.</p><p>Nice way to spend your final moments.</p><p>He checked his watch. <em>8:42. </em></p><p>It’s funny how you get into certain businesses. You start by simply buying a small business in the wrong part of town and the next thing you know, your building is burnt to the ground and when you realise you got into some shady shit and call the man everybody’s been telling you about, saying you’re out of business, the guy at the end of the phone tells you <em>thank you. We’ll remember this and if you ever need a favour, give us a call. </em></p><p>You call and suddenly you’re spending your Friday nights in a closet getting ready to assassinate people who had messed with the mob.</p><p>He was getting bored now, and picked up the hand gun, cocking it as quietly as he could.</p><p>He burst through the wooden doors, one shot, muffled by the silencer, came before they even knew what had happened.</p><p>Into her head, out through his chest.</p><p>They hit the ground instantly.</p><p>Dead.</p><p>Whizzer smiled at the shot, slowly approaching to check the bodies. He tilted his head as he stared at the woman, a dazed smile on her face, or what was left of her face, blood peppering and sprayed over her expensive white fur coat. Whizzer frowned. He could’ve taken it, she did look stunning after all, but not as stunning as he could’ve looked.</p><p>He turned to the man, he was face down, twitching slightly. Whizzer nudged him with his foot a couple of times before rolling his body over.</p><p>“ahhh shit, he’s hot.” Whizzer said to himself as he saw his face “if only I was a fucking necrophile.” He muttered to himself, chuckling darkly. He stared at the man and suddenly he gasped for breath, trying to move. Whizzer rolled his eyes, firing a single shot into his head. “not so hot anymore.” He said, staring at the gaping hole in his forehead, the blood trailing out from the corner of his mouth, the brains spilling onto the floor.</p><p>He checked his watch again. <em>8:45. </em></p><p>Whizzer went back to the closet, getting the semi-automatic, and cracked the window. He looked through the sight, his eyelashes twitching as he slowed his breathing.</p><p><em>One</em>.</p><p>The taxi cab pulled up on the other side of the street, ten storeys lower.</p><p><em>Two</em>.</p><p>Whizzer closed his other eye, training the sights on the cab.</p><p>
  <em>Three. </em>
</p><p>As soon as the head appeared, Whizzer took a shot. The man crumpled to the ground and he checked his watch again as he heard shrieks from below. Five minutes to get the fuck out of there. He disassembled the rifle in seconds, slotting each piece into the foam moulds in the briefcase.</p><p>Then he stripped, changing out of the all black and leather entourage and folded them as fast as possible, stacking them into the case over the fake bottom. He changed his black leather gloves to white, silky ones, putting on a burgundy bell hop uniform and black dress trousers over the pair of fishnet stockings. The black cap was the final touch, and he pulled it down, so it was covering the majority of his face.</p><p>He clipped closed the briefcase and rushed towards the door.</p><p>He stopped as he saw the mini bar, turning back to look at the corpses, “not like you guys will need these.” He joked to them, taking out a couple of mini bottles and shoved them into the blazer pocket. He waited at the door, pressing his eye to the peep hole. He huffed, looking down to his watch.</p><p>He was late.</p><p>Whizzer looked back through the hole when he saw a bell hop stop along the hall, knocking on the door the suit along. As soon as he disappeared into the room, Whizzer swung open the door, tiptoe sprinting along the hall and threw his briefcase onto the bag trolley, pulling his hat forward again.</p><p>He set off down the hall to the service elevator, nodding politely to passing workers, and took a conspicuous look over his shoulder, winking at the bell hop who he had taken the bag trolley from. The bell hop saluted, turning to get out his own way. He used the card he swiped from the woman at the front desk, calling the elevator, and tapped his foot as he waited for it to arrive on his floor, watching the numbers rise.</p><p>It opened on the floor with a loud ‘ding’ and Whizzer coolly wheeled the trolley into the lift. As soon as the doors closed he took off the blazer, stuffing it into the briefcase and hung the hat onto the railing. From one of the other suitcases he had stolen, he took out a bright red trench coat and large glasses that almost covered his face. He slipped out of the comfortable trainers, ripping down the black trousers and discarded them in the suitcase, zipping it closed.</p><p>He winced as he took out the mini skirt and high heels from the second case. Whizzer hated walking around the streets of New York dressed as a woman, he certainly admired the way the real women in his life were able to ignore the abuse and catcalls, but he wasn’t built like that, or rather he wasn’t used to it.</p><p>He pushed the feelings away, stepping into the black denim skirt, pulling it up, fumbling for the cool zipper. He frantically tucked in the dress shirt and buttoned the long trench coat, positioning the padding so it gave the illusion of breasts. He held onto the railing as he slipped his feet in to the five-inch sparkly gold heels, instantly feeling the blisters being rubbed raw again.</p><p>He grabbed the large red leather handbag that was hanging off of the railing of the trolley and from inside, pulled out a long blonde wig that was cut so it framed his face perfectly, showing his more effeminate features, trying to place it as perfectly on his head as he could from just looking at the shiny metallic elevator interior. He finally stuffed the briefcase into the handbag as best as he could, covering the top up with a well-placed scarf.</p><p>The key was to hide in plain sight.</p><p>The elevator door opened and there stood Whizzer, cool as a cucumber.</p><p>The first step he took was always shaky, the heels something he never got used to. “and that, ladies and gentlemen, is what you get when a person who dreamed to be on Broadway works for the mafia” he muttered to himself, strutting out with all the elegance he could muster, ignoring the screaming and yelling around him.</p><p>He pushed through the glass turning doors, one hand clutching his handbag, the other falling to his thigh so he could feel the knife attached to the garter. Women’s clothes were uncomfortable as fuck. As soon as the cold, damp air hit him, he let out his breath, taking a single look right before strutting down the road to the nearest crossing. He removed the sunglasses, putting them on the top of his head, it would be suspicious wearing sunglasses in the dark.</p><p>But that was when their eyes met, and Whizzer almost froze in the middle of the cross walk.</p><p>His target. The man with the ugly clothes and beautiful eyes that Whizzer had been trailing for weeks, the man who’s hair was almost curly, but not quite, the man whose face was slick with tears, the man whose son, who looked just like him, lay dead at his feet, brain’s spilling over the pavement as his wife screamed into his chest.</p><p>The man he was meant to kill, alive, and innocent blood spilled on Whizzer’s hands.</p><p>“oh fuck.” Whizzer muttered to himself before he turned and melted into the crowd.</p><p>This was going to cause him several rather large problems in the shape of three bullets. One to his head, one to his heart, and one to his dick. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0036"><h2>36. as quoting Whizzer Brown "I believe the correct tense is hanged"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HI! so this is the second part of my Mafia AU kinda thang, (as quoting Whizzer Brown, "I wish I was a fucking necrophile") THESE CHAPTER TITLES ARE QUIRKY AS FUCK!!!!!!</p><p>so this chapter is so freaking poetic, I have this canonical thing where Marvin get's really poetic when he's drunk. this chapter is set super late the night last chapter was set, or maybe early in the morning, who cares.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Whisps of winter air are cold and viscous, biting and taught. Towers of ivory and gold scrape the sky, somehow making the pretence of sunlight feel real. Shadows made of glass, frosted window panes painting the perfect picture in the skyline, reflecting back the natural beauty.</p><p>Rainwater collecting along gutters and window sills, pooling into irregular shapes. Scratchy carpets that feel like home under bare feet, stones trapped between toes as you shuffle for your apartment with wet hair dripping down your neck.</p><p>A young man’s blood, thick and dark as it runs down a pavement, diluting with the rainwater, washing away as though it were never there. Just like his life, too young to leave a legacy.</p><p>The peaceful smiles left on dead men’s faces from where they never saw it coming.</p><p>A mother’s wail, a loud cry, a hint of thunder in the sky. The panicked sound of dead men walking, the threat of violence constantly approaching. A father’s groan as he stands in shock, his heart aching, beginning to rot.</p><p>Rocking their son in their arms, as they try and whisper their goodbyes through tearstained eyes.</p><p>He’s a romantic.</p><p>He’s a poet.</p><p>What’s more romantic than death?</p><p>Shiny gold was all he could piece together as he nursed his drink in trembling hands. Reliving the ghost of recognition on their face as their eyes met.</p><p>“Rough night?” a man with teeth as straight as the bar asked, his eyes sparkling with an unknown, raw emotion he had never seen before. <em>Familiarity</em>.</p><p>Pretty boy. Very pretty boy with almond shaped eyes and hazel hair that fell over his forehead.</p><p>Dark bags dragged his eyes down as he looked up, “ My- my son was killed.” He whispered, fears spilt into hoarse moans peppered between clutches of his head and face tensing in pain.</p><p>The stranger didn’t flinch nor react, instead listened to the singing of late-night traffic outside, cars piling into rows straighter than he was. “A simple yes would’ve sufficed.” He muttered, saluting to the bartender as golden liquid turning ruby in low lights was slid across to him. The ruby liquid slipped silkily down his throat, replenishing his morality with a satisfied sigh. “I planned on getting laid.”</p><p>His eyes glossed over as he copied the pretty boy’s motion. “Planned?”</p><p>“I’m still here am I not?” he responded, expression sharper than ice cubes crushed between anxious teeth.</p><p>The man brought a wallet from bundles of layers, dark stains residing where he had embraced his son a final time. Crisps notes gentle as angel wings are passed across the sticky wood.</p><p>Pretty boy straightens up as he sees the untouched cash left in the leather lined purse, “Say, do I recognise you mister?” he asked, a shroud of boredom surrounding him, trying to seem disinterested.</p><p>“Marvin Feldman, New York City’s mayor.” He replies, outstretching a shaking hand. It’s caked in dark red crusting blood.</p><p>Pretty boy stares at the hand, so small and inconsiderate. “Whizzer Brown.” Was his only response, swilling his drink so the ice cubes created waves similar to those that engulfed the titanic. “You’ve got a little something—” he brought a finger to parched lips, grazing it over teeth. He slowly went to touch the mayors cheek, feeling the blotchy, red skin beneath his thumb as he wiped a speckle of blood away.</p><p>A speckle from where an explosion of his son’s head caved in and burst like a watermelon.</p><p>Thick tears fell from the mayors eyes as his face relaxed into the pretty boys hand, as though he were Atlas holding up the heavens. He was broken, shattered into tiny inconsolable pieces as he wept silently for his loss.</p><p>“Where’s your wife mister Mayor?” pretty boy asked, taking a glance to his right, words light like fairy wings.</p><p>He choked back a sob, a bitter sob that swelled from his stomach like the water rising in a well. “Dead.” He whispered. He wept into his glass, the golden glow of the liquid turning salty with tears. “S-she h-hung herself.”</p><p>Pretty boy reaches into his thin jacket pocket, spare change clinking against something else of the metal standard. “I believe the correct tense is <em>hanged</em>.” He produces a thin foil film, unwrapping with nimble fingers. They are feminine, they too are pretty. He pops pills out with well-kept nails, the tiniest hint of dry blood collecting beneath them. The smell of peaches waft from him, an unusual smell, not a bad one, but sweet yet deceiving. He holds out his hand, two pills residing in his palm.</p><p>He takes a double glance at the tiny blue capsules.</p><p>“Just aspirin mister Mayor, I have the feeling you’ll need it.” pretty boy says as though he can read his mind.</p><p>Slowly the Mayor reached towards the pretty boy, his face blurring and softening. “You look like an angel—” he whispered, the warm lighting creating an angelic halo above the pretty boys head if only for a moment before he swayed out of focus again, “are you here to take me too?” he was on the verge of begging for the grim reaper to take him.</p><p>The pretty boy chuckled, a high and melodic sound like wind chimes on a front porch on a blissful summers day, “We both know it would be the devil taking you.” He responded, “and lucky for you, I am one.” Pretty boy turned back to his drink, wetting his finger in the chilled liquid, the condensation blurring it, “People always think Lucifer will be ugly, uglier than life itself. With grating horns and matted fur, with tails made of whips and snakes, with hundreds of teeth sharper than diamond.” Dribbles of the liquid dripped down his finger as he shook it, the illusion being formed of blood tainting his scotch, “But people neglect to remember that Lucifer was a fallen angel who cut off his wings in the scorching sand.” Delicately he ran his finger around the ring of the glass and suddenly it came to life, humming quietly, “The devil is more charming and more encapsulating than any angel will ever be, because he has felt pain, because he doesn’t belong, because he knows your darkest desire.”</p><p>The pretty boy stopped, wiping the absentminded upturned thin-lipped smile from his face. He drank. The ice cubes fall forward onto his face, but he doesn’t flinch.</p><p>The cold is his home.</p><p>He stands a single pill on the splintered wood, the refraction of light turning it a muddy brown. Pretty boy looks at the mayor again, eyes dragging first and foremost to his icy cold pupils. Wintery blue, the colour of the sky as it meets the ocean’s horizon. Bloodshot and piercing yet murky. He languishes in the cold.</p><p>The cold is his home.</p><p>The Mayor cracks his knuckles, empty pops filling the space between them.</p><p>Pretty boy’s fingers dance down his jacket as he creates the illusion of a fresh iron and stops as he reaches his waist, looking up to him, “Mind paying for mine sir?” he asks, the teeth returning in a chilling smile. The smile itself isn’t chilling, the smile is heart-warming, sweet, and genuine, but his eyes don’t crinkle, his eyes stay still and emotionless.</p><p>The mayor swallows, Adams apple bobbing up. It seems large against his thin, veiny neck. It stays raised as he stays on the precipice of crying. He nods and the pretty boy gets up to leave.</p><p>His hands seem to gravitate instantly to his pockets, but the mayor reaches out, his hand looping in to the crook of his elbow, feeling how silky smooth the flowing fabric is beneath his rough paw. Not what he expects.</p><p>Pretty boy spins around instantly and the mayor catches a glimpse of the glinting metal on his knuckles before they’re stuffed frantically into pockets, first signs of emotion showing on his empty face. There’s a loud metallic noise, like the sound of a sword drawn from its hilt, and the mayor draws his hand back as though the pretty boy is made of fire. “Sorry—” his apologies are sincere, not what the pretty boy expects “I know you’re with them. Tell them… tell them I’ll have it, soon, tomorrow. I just want- need sleep. Tell them I’ll never cross them again.”</p><p>The mayor thinks he is lucky that he bumped into Whizzer Brown instead of the others that had been following him, the big burly men capable of squeezing the life out of him with their bare hands without a flicker of emotion.</p><p>Whizzer Brown leaves with a lump in his throat, pocketing the poisoned aspirin without a second thought.</p><p>Broken men stand like crumpled paper.</p><p>Broken men have nothing to live for.</p><p>It’s no fun killing a broken man, instead it feels like euthanising, that’s what Whizzer Brown tells himself. But Whizzer Brown is a romantic, and Whizzer Brown couldn’t help but feel a quickening in his heart as the mayor told him he looked like an angel.</p><p>In the city that never sleeps, there’s no such thing as darkness.</p><p>Except for the darkness in one’s soul.</p><p>Except for the darkness that hides in the corner of one’s eyes.</p><p>When you’re all dark, sometimes it’s refreshing for someone to tell you, that you could have deceived them into believing you are light.</p><p>Whizzer Brown trudged home, guilt nauseating and playing tricks on him as in every corner he saw the dead, their faces beginning to blur as the number climbed frantically.</p><p>
  <em>37, 38 and 39 tonight. Not including the mayors wife. </em>
</p><p><em>40</em> as the he approaches his door with the uneasy feeling settling in his stomach. <em>40</em> as his heart stops and his eyes catch the tiny drop of blood as clear as day on the white skirting. <em>40 </em>as he sees the man sat in the arm chair in his apartment in the dark. <em>40</em> as a single shot is received to his head and he slumps to the floor. <em>Fuck. </em>Whizzer Brown turned the lights on to see the body. <em>Fuck.</em></p><p>More will follow, just because he couldn’t bring himself to kill that damned man with the almost curly hair, but not quite, the man who asked him if he were an angel, the man who saw his wife and son die in front of him in one night, the man who will wake up tomorrow having forgotten ever met Whizzer.</p><p>If Whizzer Brown was one thing, Whizzer Brown was screwed. </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0037"><h2>37. as quoting Whizzer Brown, " did the good ol' smiley"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Don’t ask me why I’ve literally planned out how I would dispose of a body, I’ve had this idea for 3 years, no jokes. This is pretty gruesome but I’m on my 10th true crime documentary of the weekend so I can’t exactly feel anymore.</p><p>in order: Nightstalker, the ripper, killer inside: the mind of Aaron Hernandez, Fear city: New York vs. The Mafia,  don't fuck with cats, murder mountain, the Trials of Gabriel Fernandez, Long shot, abducted in plain sight and roll red roll. </p><p>I honestly recommend them all other than Murder mountain, it was more about weed than murder and they made weed seem like a big deal when it's honestly not.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Whizzer Brown sighed as he stared at the body bleeding out onto his new wooden floors, that’s why he never killed anyone other than in plain sight, the clean-up and disposing of the body was god awful. He hopped over the dead body to the telephone attached to his wall dialling quickly, “I need you- now.” He said, not elaborating, “black tie.” and then stripped down to his underwear, sighing as he dragged the heavy body to the tiny bathroom in the flat.</p><p>This was most definitely not how Whizzer Brown had planned on spending his night.</p><p>He started with the bleach, letting it soak into the snail trail of blood and almost fell over as he lugged the heavy body into the bath tub. He fetched a combat knife from the tool box hidden beneath his bed and got into the tub with the body, so it was laying on top of him. He sighed as he turned on the tap, the freezing cold water chilling him to the bone and rushing over the body. Whizzer traced the sharp point of the knife along his neck until he reached the soft spot just below where the man’s jawbone curved up.</p><p>Whizzer sighed again and angled the cutting edge of the knife out away from the ventral surface.</p><p>He got a little squeamish when disposing of bodies.</p><p>He thrust the knife through the man’s neck, guiding the blunt edge against the neck chords, the hard tissue and cartilage easy to trace. Blood dribbled slowly from the knife entry point and he angled the head down, so It flowed into the bathtub. He kept pushing the knife and suddenly it broke the soft skin on the other side, he slowed his breathing, this was where it got nasty. He tested the waters, putting a little pressure onto the sharp edge of the knife, and suddenly slashed outwards, freeing the knife from his neck. A splash of blood painted the tiles and he groaned, getting out from beneath the body. He turned it so it was on its front, turning the tap higher until the blood was running down the drain as a pretty shade of pink he wouldn’t mind owning as a shirt.</p><p>He knelt on the back of his neck, forcing his hand down until he could feel the inside of the man’s throat. killing a man didn’t bother whizzer brown, dismembering them was a whole different game. He snapped the man’s neck, it was now clinging on by a single thin strip of skin, blood was rushing dangerously fast down the drain and with a single slash, he was holding a severed head in his hands.</p><p>He reached out of the bathtub, feeling for a pair of pliers, and began plucking his teeth out one at a time, cringing at each tooth pulled, trying not to establish eye contact with the corpse. He put them into a small glass ready with ammonia, they would hopefully dissolve. He left the head in the bath as he moved on to the body, hoping the blood would drain by the time they’d get there.</p><p>He broke the man’s arms and legs with considerable force by propping them up and jumping onto them, the shattering and splintering sounds going straight to his stomach where a nauseous edge was beginning to lurch up. He cut the arms and legs clean off, leaving them to drain in the bath tub and got out, letting his feet rinse under the tap. He got out of the tub, and went back to his bed, searching underneath for his blow torch.</p><p>Rule one. No finger prints or identifying features.</p><p>He went back to the bathroom, using the blow torch to individually burn off each of the man’s finger prints and the tattoo on the back of his neck , the scent of burning flesh caused him to cover his mouth and nose with a cloth as he gagged.</p><p>He left the pieces in the bathtub and left as he heard the dull thump of a fist on the door. He closed the door to the bathroom, pulling on a silk robe over his bloodstained body and hid his body behind the door as he opened it.</p><p>“why hullo, don’t you look gorgeous-“ he exclaimed as he let the two impeccably dressed women in to the apartment, “I wouldn’t have chosen white though.” He said as he looked at the drop dead gorgeous black woman in a tight white dress, and then to the bloodstained floor.</p><p>Both women followed his gaze to the trail of blood leading to the closed bathroom, “what the fuck have you got yourself into this time Whizzer?” she asked quietly, following him into the room. “and why are we dressed up?”</p><p>“I invited you to a lavish dinner party two weeks ago, you will find the handwritten invitations on your doorsteps, please fill in today’s date.” He said, dropping the robe off again as he went back to the bathroom.</p><p>“whizzer!” this time it was the second woman with the shoulder length blonde permed hair who spoke sharply.</p><p>Whizzer ignored her, “Charlotte, you still work at the mortuary right?”</p><p>“yes but—”</p><p>“a body will come in, and you need to do the autopsy, make sure my fingerprints aren’t on it, label him a john doe.” He suddenly turned to look at her, his eyes softening, “please Charlotte, I really need this.”</p><p>Charlotte raised a hand to her face, rubbing her eyes, “it starts like this Whizz, then it escalates—”</p><p>“please.” He pleaded, smiling gently. “I will either be executed by the mob or the government.” He took her hands in his, and charlotte recoiled as she felt the wet blood sticking to her fingers.</p><p>“why didn’t you call it fucking self-defence.” She exclaimed, dropping her hands.</p><p>Whizzer froze, looking at the chair the man had sat, then followed the trail of blood.</p><p>“I’m a fucking idiot.” He said quietly. Suddenly Whizzer’s eyebrows raised, and he laughed maniacally, “why didn’t I fucking call it self-defence!? I have a headless torso in there where I had to pluck out the god forsaken teeth and mutilate it beyond recognition when I could’ve just fucking called the cops and explained I came home to a man robbing my apartment.”</p><p>“you’re a fucking idiot.” The blonde woman said.</p><p>He nodded in agreement, “I’m a fucking idiot. Please make yourself at home, why don’t you cook something Delia, I’m still expecting two more.”</p><p>“again, why the fancy outfits?” Delia asked</p><p>Whizzer laughed but didn’t reply, instead he went back into the bathroom. He picked up the head, dropping it into a large bucket filled with ‘a janitors cocktail’ a concoction of bleach and salts so acidic they were capable of dissolving bone. He took the arms, breaking them at the elbow and then wrapped them up in plastic bags followed by brown ‘meat’ paper. He tied them into sweet sized parcels using brown twine and stacked them on the floor. He repeated with the legs, snapping them in half at the knee caps, sawing them with a saw, the sound making him almost ready to throw up as the bone sounded suspiciously like wood.</p><p>He pushed the eight packages to the side and lugged the torso out of the bath, “why didn’t I ask the person whose job it is to literally cut open dead bodies to do this?” he asked himself. He got out the saw again, feeling for just below the ribs where the diaphragm was, the soft fleshier part of his body. He shivered as he began to saw, blood splattering up onto his face and he closed his mouth into a gruesome pout as the large intestines began to spew out of his stomach. Whizzer gagged, bolting to the toilet and threw up, trying to keep his bloody hands away from his face as he spat out the vomit.</p><p>It took him much longer to do the torso as he kept taking vomit breaks, and eventually packaged it up just like he did the other limbs. He took a quick shower and cleaned the floor and bathtub with bleach, scrubbing to get the blood out from the grout on hands and knees. He changed into a slick tuxedo, stepping over the packages filled with body parts to tie his bow tie in the mirror.</p><p>He joined Charlotte and Delia in his kitchen, watching from the doorway a moment as they danced together, swaying from side to side as he could hear Charlotte singing a frank Sinatra song under her breath. It was a sweet moment filled between forbidden lovers, one he wished he could share with someone. The pair jumped apart as they heard another knock at the door, and Whizzer got it.</p><p>He smiled brightly as he saw the woman in front of him, “thought you were dead.” He said, the smile blossoming and suddenly he hugged her.</p><p>“he believes it?” She asked, hugging him back.</p><p>“yep, he was a wreck.” He replied. They broke apart, “come in Trina darling, come in bitch boy.” From behind the gracious woman, the small man with tight black curly hair and a scruffy suit grunted darkly. “Delia’s cooking-“ Whizzer announced, and they followed him through the house.</p><p>“well look who’s here!” Charlotte said smoothly, pouring herself a glass of wine, “thought the mayors wife killed herself last night.”</p><p>Trina smiled toothily, “still here aren’t I darling.”</p><p>“how’d you manage it?” Delia asked, kissing her cheek .</p><p>“mainly Whizzer’s idea—” Trina started, getting her own glass and handing it to charlotte as she poured.</p><p>“entirely Whizzer’s idea thank you.” Whizzer interrupted, “I bumped into a guy on the street a week ago who looked exactly like her son, poor boy had to die for everything I need. He was homeless bless his soul, I promised him a meal and to put him out of his misery and he all but jumped in front of the bullet.”</p><p>“how didn’t the mayor notice it wasn’t his son?” Charlotte asked, confused.</p><p>“my husband hadn’t seen him since he was a child.” Trina explained, “my son came out as gay in the seventies when he was in his early teens, Marvin threatened to kill him, so he went off to a ‘boarding school for wayward children’ and hasn’t come back since. It’s been over 10 years since Marv had last seen him.”</p><p>Whizzer laughed suddenly, everybody turning to him. He smiled knowingly and took a long gulp of wine.</p><p>“are you sure this is all going to work?” the small man with the irritating glasses asked, unconvinced.</p><p>Whizzer sighed, irritated “no bitch boy this is the fucking mafia, of course I’m not sure about anything.”</p><p>“hold your fire Whizzer, I’m here to help, and I’m not a bitch boy.”</p><p>“could’ve fooled me.” Whizzer dead panned. Suddenly his voice became vulnerable, “we needed the mayor to lose someone for him to change the system. anyway-“ he continued, “-how did the pills work?”</p><p>“like a treat.” Trina explained, “Whizzer hooked me up with a netting vest, I tied a noose, and it was attached to my neck, but the vest took most of the weight. Took the pills and they slowed my pulse down enough just so that I seemed dead.”</p><p>“you gonna tell Mister Mayor?” whizzer asked.</p><p>Trina smiled, “only after everything’s sorted out.” She said, a wicked look in her eye “now why are we here?”</p><p>Whizzer opened his mouth to speak but Charlotte put a hand over his face before he had a chance to let out a response, “the idiot over here needs us to dispose of a body.”</p><p>He pried her fingers up, “don’t worry, nothing dire—”</p><p>“he’s been chopping it up in the bathtub.” Cordelia added before snorting loudly, “god Trina, if only your husband knew what was going on.”</p><p>“he doesn’t even think I can hold a gun-“ Trina said, laughing, “wait until he finds out my body count’s in the fifties.”</p><p>“fuck, this guy was my fortieth.”</p><p>“you count?” Charlotte asked, her eyebrows raised.</p><p>“yes darling-“ Cordelia replied, kissing her on the cheek, “mines twenty-seven-“</p><p>Charlotte turned to the short man, “and what’s yours… ‘bitch boy’? I’m sorry I don’t know your name.”</p><p>“Mendel.” Mendel said, sulkily, “and I don’t have one either.”</p><p>“who said anything about ‘either’” Charlotte suddenly asked sassily, “I’ve killed I just don’t count.”</p><p>“see. You’re a Bitch boy.” Whizzer stated without a care in the world. “now when you leave, you’ll each have several packages. I’ve written down the address of which dumpsters you need to drop them off at. “he began to pass out the small slips of paper with the addresses, “don’t worry there ain’t any surveillance.”</p><p>Mendel’s face looked as though there was a funny smell, “excuse me, why the need to drop them at so many different locations?”</p><p>Whizzer smiled brightly, “so they’ll look like a smiley face!” he exclaimed.</p><p>Not a single person spoke as they looked at him as though he were a psychopath.</p><p>-</p><p>Whizzer hid in his booth, seeming all too interested in his dark brown ‘old fashioned’ as he snuck seemingly inauspicious glances at Fat Tony’s table.</p><p>He recognised the man sat across from Fat Tony, but then again, so did everyone in the mob. Tony Ducks, boss of the Lucchese family. He hunched over as though he had a bullet wound to the stomach, frantically speaking in a low voice as Fat Tony beckoned lazily for one of the cigar girls to refill his drink. The fedora balanced precariously on the top of his balding head, and a cigar hung out of the corner of his mouth, a single yellowing strip of cloud like hair above as the smoke discoloured it from its platinum neighbours.</p><p>Tony Ducks voice raised just loud enough for Whizzer to hear at his booth, “listen tony, if it wasn’t for me there wouldn’t be no mob left. I made all the guys.”</p><p>“Tony, one thing. get rid of them, shoot them, <em>kill</em> them. you can’t go on. It’s disgusting.” Fat Tony slapped the cigar girls ass as she handed them each a glass of the gentleman’s club finest scotch. “well here’s to your health and fuck everything.”</p><p>Their glasses sang out as they met in the centre of the table, and ‘Salut’ was muttered coarsely as they each brought the glass to their lips with unwavering gazes</p><p>“there’s a fucking dispute over fucking money. What do you want to do?” Tony ducks asked as he put down his glass, nursing it between his swollen fingers.</p><p>“I gotta make a decision I hate to make.” Fat tony replied.</p><p>“there’s fightin’ in the family- the Chicago area“</p><p>“tell them if they keep fighting it’ll come from the commission. Tell him it’s the commission from New York. Tell him he’s dealing with the big boys now. If they want to make him the boss, make him the fucking boss, as far as the commission, they don’t want him.” Fat tony responded.</p><p>Tony ducks suddenly froze as he followed Whizzer’s gaze to the pair of them, “we got a listener.” He jerked his head to the side and suddenly two men came up behind Whizzer, dragging him, kicking and screaming, out of the booth.</p><p>Tony Ducks watched as one of his men pulled a knife on Whizzer, “who do you work for you motherfucking cocksucker!?” He all but yelled. Whizzer kept his mouth shut, the knife beginning to make a nick on his neck.</p><p>“it’s okay Tony, leave him, he’s here for me.” Fat tony said, gesturing to Tony Ducks now empty chair, “take a seat Whizzer.”</p><p>“whizzer?” Tony Ducks scoffed in disbelief.</p><p>“nickname, <em>ducks.” </em>Whizzer spat. He sat cautiously across from fat tony and put a single finger up at the cigar girl, who cut the top off of a cigar and handed it to him along with a struck match.</p><p>He held it between his teeth like the man opposite him, holding his cards close to his chest.</p><p>Fat tony sat forward, “you killed my wise guy.”</p><p>“he came for me.” Whizzer’s eyebrow raised, “you knew I’d kill him. What? you told him to fucking wait in the dark in a trained trigger boys apartment? He was sloppy.”</p><p>Fat tony threw his hands up, “because you didn’t finish my fucking job.” He took a long draw from the cigar, “you got the wrong guy. And you’re right. He was a loose end.”</p><p>Whizzer took a quick look across the room to Tony ducks leaving, “the Mayor promised me he could get 2 points and an extra 1 for today. What else was I meant to say?”</p><p>“Say nothing, instead shoot him in the back of the head. You’re slipping Whizzer.”</p><p>“I- “ Whizzer suddenly began to stutter in a very un-whizzer way, “-there’s a slight complication. I’m—”</p><p>Fat tony laughed to himself, taking the fedora off of his head, “don’t tell me you’re a ‘homo bitch in love with the mayor of New York city’” He looked up as he was met with dead silence. “kill him.”</p><p>“but—”</p><p>“kill him, or you won’t be walking anytime soon.”</p><p>Whizzer sighed, “I killed Carmine Galante, you need me.”</p><p>Fat Tony grunted, “there’s another trigger boy waiting just outside, do as you’re told. You’re lucky you’re my fucking favourite.”</p><p>“no I’m lucky I’m your illegitimate son.”</p><p>Fat tony rolled his eyes, “how’d you dispose of the body?” he asked quietly.</p><p>“you’d be proud pops-“ Whizzer teased, “did the good ol’ smiley.” </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0038"><h2>38. as quoting Whizzer Brown, "You haven't killed anyone, you're a bitch boy"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry, but this is the final part of my mafia AU kinda thingy mabob. anyways I actually really enjoyed writing this also, if you're confused whilst reading this... </p><p>same. </p><p>Begins with flashback to ‘as quoting Whizzer brown “I believe the correct tense is hanged”’ all the italics are flash backs. </p><p>anyway, it's a pretty sad ending.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <em>Pretty boy spins around instantly and the mayor catches a glimpse of the glinting metal on his knuckles before they’re stuffed frantically into pockets, first signs of emotion showing on his empty face. There’s a loud metallic noise, like the sound of a sword drawn from its hilt, and the mayor draws his hand back as though the pretty boy is made of fire. “Sorry—” his apologies are sincere, not what the pretty boy expects “I know you’re with them. Tell them… tell them I’ll have it, soon, tomorrow. I just want- need sleep. Tell them I’ll never cross them again.”</em>
</p><p>The pretty boy’s expression smooths out like butter and finally a real smile grace’s his lips, “how Mister Mayor?” he asks, a strong taste of sympathy pouring out from every word leaving his parched lips “two points, you owe the commission two million dollars. It’s either your head or mine and I’m not done living.”</p><p>Suddenly in an urgent flourish, the mayor tugged at pretty boys elbow, yanking him to the dance floor. “dance with me.” His hands formed a perfect ring around pretty boys neck, he was towering over him like a tree, much taller than he had realised initially.</p><p>Pretty boys knuckle dusters were icy cold as his hands tentatively gripped the mayors hips, swaying slowly from side to side, the soft lilt of the music causing his head to loll into a relaxed circle.</p><p>“listen very close Whizzer Brown-“ Mister Mayor leant into Pretty boys chest as he spoke, his voice softer than pretty boys chest hair that tickled his cheek. “you know the district attorney?”</p><p>“Rudy Giuliani.” Pretty boy whispered back, balancing his chin on the soft hair that floated on the top of the mayors head, maybe he wasn’t just a pretty face.</p><p>“he’s taking down the mafia. You need to stall my execution-“ The mayor pleaded.</p><p>Pretty boy all but laughed, he head falling back, “There aren’t any links, that’s how the mob works. The foot soldiers are the only ones to get made.”</p><p>“there’s a new law, RICO. We’ve almost got them; we just need the link to Carmine Galante’s ordered execution.” Pretty boys blood froze, and the mayor could feel the slight quicken in his heart as he pressed his head daintily against his chest. “that was you If I’m not mistaken.”</p><p>Pretty boy closed his eyes, in front of him the fuzzy images from six years prior appeared. The single shot he took at Carmine Galante’s head, the four men around him shooting blindly at the body without skill. Carmine Galante was how he became recognised, rose the ranks to captain. “make it worth my while.” Pretty boy hummed, suddenly twirling the mayor who scowled darkly.</p><p>“immunity. How do the rules work concerning the commission and bosses?”</p><p>Pretty boy chuckled like nails scraping copper, “I’ll be killed if they find out I’ve informed. How will you keep your side, I need material on you.” He dipped the mayor, holding onto him with a strong grip like scared children. They paused in the crescent moon shape and Pretty boy leant down to whisper into the mayor’s ear, “sleep with me tonight and I’ll help you out.”</p><p>The mayor almost fell to the ground in shock, face rushing a brilliant carmine, “but my wife… my wife… is dead—” his face broke slightly as the fact reimagined itself in his brain.</p><p>“Sleep with me.” Pretty boy said, smiling truthfully. He was very pretty, with hazel eyes that were cold, and hollowed cheeks engraved deep into his face.</p><p>He spun the mayor back up so their lips were almost touching, “okay—” his breath caught in his throat, “a homo sex scandal would ruin my political career I suppose, and I would be lying if told you I wasn’t curious. Answer me this now, how do the rules work with the commission and bosses?”</p><p>Pretty boy smirked, continuing to sway the mayor from side to side, “the commission is made up of the five-family head’s in New York city, they run all the mobs throughout the country. They get together every now and again to keep business in order, the only way a boss can be killed is if all four, excluding the one on trial, agree.”</p><p>“that’s what happened with Galante?”</p><p>Pretty boy hummed, “they sentenced him to death. Now Mister Mayor, did you drive or should we get a cab.” He suddenly bit the Mayor’s unexpecting ear, voice low and gruff, “I am going to fuck you so hard; you’ll forget all about your wife, and you won’t be able to walk for a week.”</p><p>The mayor’s legs turned to jelly.</p><p>Pillows talk that night was a list of people pretty boy had killed.</p><p>Oddly enough it was a turn on for Marvin.</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>“how didn’t the mayor notice it wasn’t his son?” Charlotte asked, confused.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“my husband hadn’t seen him since he was a child.” Trina explained, “my son came out as gay in the seventies when he was in his early teens, Marvin threatened to kill him, so he went off to a ‘boarding school for wayward children’ and hasn’t come back since. It’s been over 10 years since Marv had last seen him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Whizzer laughed suddenly, wine spluttering over his white marble counter, everybody turning to him. He smiled knowingly and took a long gulp of wine.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gay. Her husband was gay. Her husband liked to take it up the ass and be degraded in bed. By a man.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And in his eyes it couldn’t be more obvious. </em>
</p><p>-</p><p>
  <em>Fat tony rolled his eyes, “how’d you dispose of the body?” he asked quietly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“you’d be proud. Pops-“ Whizzer teased, “did the good ol’smiley.”</em>
</p><p>He grinned across to Fat Tony, trying to keep his movements tiny, and slid his palms along the bottom of the table until he found the metallic fixing.</p><p>The bug in his hand suddenly attached to it, and he pressed the small button.</p><p>He smirked as he felt the bug whir to life.</p><p>
  <em>Look at me mama. I’m finally getting out. </em>
</p><p>-</p><p>The radio across the street was too loud, the sounds of classical music seemingly targeting whizzer’s apartment, through the open window as he cleaned and ordered his guns on his bedroom floor.</p><p>He sighed, unable to concentrate, and got up, walking to the Juliet balcony with the flapping curtains in the early spring air. He drew the curtains, about to close the glass door when he heard it. the emergency broadcast.</p><p>His lips curled into an almost psychotic smile.</p><p>
  <em>Tonight a raid was conducted and the five heads of the Mafia, Paul “big Paul” Castellano, Anthony “fat tony” Salerno, Anthony “tony ducks” Corallo, Philip “rusty” Rastelli, and Carmine “junior” Persico, otherwise known as the commission, were taken into custody. They are being charged without bond and the latest developments according to a Hitman and FBI informant, boss of the Genovese crime family, “fat tony” backed a plan to kill the mayor of New York, Mr Marvin Feldman, whose Wife and Son recently passed on under tragic circumstances…</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>Pretty boy took a cigarette out from his pocket, placing it carefully between his cracked, raw lips. The courthouse towered over him and he waited beneath heavy white marble to escape the ever-impending thunderstorm.</p><p>“hello Whizzer Brown.”</p><p>Pretty boy’s thin lips curled into a soft smile. He didn’t turn, instead let the man’s voice all but consume him as it lapped over his skin like gentle waves at the beach. “hello Mister Mayor.”</p><p>Taps of Italian leather echoed on perfect marble steps as the Mayor slowly made his way to the young man. A sudden shadow cast over pretty boy and he looked up.</p><p>The sweet gesture of offering an umbrella.</p><p>“so… Fat Tony, huh?” the mayor said as pretty boy timidly reached out to take the umbrella, almost as though he were afraid to touch the man. It was a juxtaposed action, he could see the flash of metal where the gun sat at his waist, the sharp curvature of a knife handle, the clinking of knuckle dusters in his pocket.</p><p>Pretty boy’s eyes narrowed until they almost vanished, “what about it?”</p><p>“your father?” The mayor said as though it were something incredulous, “you sold your own father out and now he’ll spend the rest of his life in jail.”</p><p>Pretty boy’s face hardened. “didn’t you ask me to? It isn’t even like I’m his son, my mother’s a whore and he took advantage of that.” His hands flitted to the knife at his belt, “you disowned your son for being a fag, yet I fucked you until you screamed for me to stop. You have no right to talk about my fucking family you cocksucking trailblazing idotic fuck face.”</p><p>“I don’t think <em>whore </em>and <em>taking advantage</em> fit in the same sentence.” The mayor muttered as he disassociated, reaching into his pocket. He sparked a bright flame in front of pretty boys face, and with a destructive look, pretty boy leant forward, letting the cigarette light as he smelt the singeing of his own hair that fell floppily over his face like a dog’s ears.</p><p>He blew a smoke heart into the air, turning back to the mayor with exhausted, heavy eyes. “ they fit.” He replied coldly. He suddenly shook his head with a grace, pulling the mayor closer so they were sharing the umbrella, their breaths hanging together in the chilly air. “I really should be thanking you Mister Mayor…” he whispered.</p><p>“thanking me?” The mayor asked, enamoured all of a sudden by how dry pretty boy’s lips were. They hadn’t been like that when they had slept together, no, they were warm and soft like the skin of a peach. his words were hardly existent as he spoke, “thanking me for what?”</p><p>Pretty boys lips spread until his gums were revealed, “you haven’t figured it out yet?” He asked, the smile becoming more wicked as the seconds drew longer. “I really thought you were smarter than this mister mayor.”</p><p>It was like a single switch went off in the mayors brain.</p><p>“you... you needed to take down the commission” The Mayors voice was shaking as he struggled to finished his sentence, “this was your plan all along, you wanted the commission in jail. But- but why?”</p><p>“and now he gets it.” Pretty boy said, laughing. “I think the real question is ‘how I managed to get the commission in jail’. you’ve met my friend Cordelia, right?” he announced. The woman with the thick bouncy blonde hair got out of the taxi that had suddenly pulled up and the mayor swallowed all emotion.</p><p>Because he recognised this woman, this woman who had worked as his receptionist for well over a year now who he only saw as fuckable and stupid “Cordelia?” his voice raised suddenly.</p><p>“hello Mr Feldman!” She said, her signature bright smile drawing her lips apart as she approached the pair. It looked more satanic now that he thought about it, “you remember that little law called ‘RICO’ you made to take down the mafia, and you remember how your district attorney suddenly had the ideas?” She asked, a patronising little tone sparking through her voice. The mayor nodded; his mouth as dry as the Saharan desert. “well god knows anyone would ever listen to a woman.”</p><p>Whizzer turned back to the mayor, his grip tightening on his elbow, restraining him to his chest, “ What Cordelia means to say is that do you <em>really </em>believe that Rudy fucking Giuliani came up with that law on his own, that fucktwat cocksucker? Oh no, that was us, or rather Cordelia just giving him some small nudges in the right direction to fill his ego.”</p><p>“who- who are you, what’s your organisation?” The mayor asked, fear brimming in his eyes like fire.</p><p>Whizzer smiled, “oh come now, I haven’t finished my story.” He said, pouting playfully as though he were a child. “I also believe you know bitch boy over here.” From the other side of the cab upon hearing his ‘name’, Doctor Mendel Weisenbachfeld got out, reluctantly pondering around the cab like a dinosaur.</p><p>“I told you, I’m not a bitch boy.”</p><p>“you haven’t killed anyone, you’re a bitch boy.” Whizzer spat nastily, “you know your psychiatrist Mister Mayor?”</p><p>The mayor sucked in a quick short breath, suddenly intoxicated by Whizzer’s smell. “Doctor Mendel?”</p><p>“turns out there are legal ways to get around the whole ‘patient doctor confidentiality’ but they were too much of a hassle, so we roped in your doctor.” Whizzer explained, grinning. “he told us all about your plans to take down the mafia, we just needed to manipulate the facts a little. Trina darling, why don’t you come give your husband a shock?”</p><p>The mayor paled as his wife, adorning a beautiful evening gown exited the car. “did you miss me?” she asked, an almost wicked smile on her face.</p><p>“t-Trina?” His face were whiter than the ruffled shirt he was wearing.</p><p>Whizzer suddenly looked down at him, “oh god, please don’t throw up on me.” He took a cautious step back.</p><p>“don’t worry-“ Trina said, a bright look on her face, a comforting motherly smile, “your son’s not dead.”</p><p>“How are you alive? what are you- who are you working for-“</p><p>“don’t you get it Mister Mayor?” Whizzer suddenly asked again. Behind him, the men and women lined up, “we’re the commission now thanks to you.”</p><p>The mayor held a frustrated hand to his head, “I don’t understand.”</p><p>“God Marvin, I always thought you were oblivious, but thick too?” Trina interrupted, “Jesus Christ, Whizzer explain it to the poor idiot.”</p><p>Whizzer laughed like pennies being used to beat a person to death in a panty hose, “let me spell this out for you.” He pointed at Trina and began speaking in an obvious, slow voice “your loving house wife who you thought killed herself is actually a trained assassin.” He turned back to her, “What was the number again? Thirty?”</p><p>“fifty, doll.” Trina said smiling with white teeth sharper than knifes.</p><p>“I don’t understand.” The mayor repeated.</p><p>Whizzer’s hand Caressed the mayors face and suddenly Trina coughed loudly. “will you um, will you give me a moment?” He asked, turning to Trina and the rest, smiling in a way they had never seen before.</p><p>Trina smiled, but it was a sad, knowing smile, knowing he couldn’t ever be hers, and slowly, they backed away.</p><p>“I was fed up with watching my back, fed up with getting shot at, so I took everyone else out of the game.” Whizzer smiled sweetly at the Mayor. “you wouldn’t understand, I was brought up as a killing machine, I’ve never loved anyone because when I got close to them, they became a target. I needed to get out,” a forlorn expression let him smile weakly, “but that’s not possible.”</p><p>“so you tricked me into taking down the mafia so you could… become it?”</p><p>Whizzer’s eyelids fluttered closed, and he just let himself breathe. “you wouldn’t understand.”</p><p>He kissed the mayors cheek and took the umbrella again from his hand. As he drew back, the mayor could see light in his eyes, no longer cold, he could see the frown lines on his forehead suddenly smooth out, he could see pretty boy suddenly turn years younger in seconds, and suddenly wondered how young he really was.</p><p>“how old are you Mr Brown?” He asked.</p><p>Pretty boy just smiled, and stepped down the marble stairs, reaching the pouring sky, thankful for the umbrella and started walking slowly in the direction of his home, not worrying enough to look behind him, not afraid anymore.</p><p>“So I guess you won Pretty boy.” The mayor called after him as they were left alone under the leaking sky, miles apart.</p><p>Pretty boy smiled, “guess I did.” He stopped before turning, “it really is a pity Mister Mayor, I did like you.” He smiled a final time and suddenly the mayor ran through the sheets of rain to meet him under the umbrella.</p><p>“have a drink with me.” He begged, his hands finding pretty boy’s on the umbrella, curling around them.</p><p>Pretty boy laughed, a soft laugh like marshmallow pillows. “a drink or a<em> drink</em>.” This was different, it sounded sweet, carefree. Young.</p><p>The mayor bit his lip, bright blush brushing the top of his ears where his slicked back hair for the courthouse was beginning to fall out of place, “a <em>drink.</em>”</p><p>There was a weighted pause between them as Pretty boy tilted his head, moving forward, his lips almost touching the mayors. His eyes flickered down to his lips, ready to tentatively touch them with a thumb that smelt suspiciously like a gun barrel. “I –“</p><p>Life shattered, cracking of skull, red.</p><p>Gasping.</p><p>The mayor rocked forward as Pretty boy crumpled like paper to the ground, his hands still clutched around the black umbrella, blood pooling out of the side of his head, staining the marble steps.</p><p>Shock.</p><p>The mayors lips quivered as he reached a hand to his face, trying to physically restrain a sob.</p><p>Slick. Wet. Blood spraying his face like paint.</p><p>Underwater.</p><p>Pretty boy not so pretty anymore, pretty boy bleeding out on the floor, eyes glassy and open, a twisted smile on his face as he tried to finish the words, words that could never be finished, words that meant the Mayor would never know his answer.</p><p>Already dressed for his own funeral with the sleek black suit for court, with greased hair smooth on his head, with his perfect face .</p><p>There was a scrabble behind the mayor, but he was still underwater.</p><p>Men tried wrestling the gun, the police man’s gun from the man Whizzer had testified against, his father, the man with the restrained hands and the death wish.</p><p>The man who’s only wish was to see his traitor, homo son dead on the white steps.</p><p>A second and third shot rang out.</p><p>The mayor fell to the floor, unable to feel anything but grief as he curled up with Pretty boy’s body.</p><p>Still warm, still comforting.</p><p>A huge heat blossomed in his back, couldn’t feel his legs, but he also couldn’t feel anything.</p><p>Except the throbbing pain in his heart.</p><p>He curled around pretty boy sobbing into his chest, unnoticed on the floor as he slowly bled out on the white marble steps, unable to move as the bullet severed his spinal cord.</p><p>Already dressed for his own funeral as he kissed Whizzer Brown a final time before shivering in a pool of their blood.</p><p>“it wasn’t meant to end like this.” He whispered, blood leaving his mouth like spit, landing on Whizzer Brown’s mouth, painting his face as though it were a canvas, “it wasn’t meant to end like this.” Pretty boy had begun to turn blue, and the mayor reached up, closing his eyes with his fingers.</p><p>As he moved his hand to caress Pretty boys face, he could almost hear his reply.</p><p>Could almost see the twisted smile that just made his face light up like the city.<em> “it’s the name of the game my love,”</em> Could almost feel the way his lips would just brush against his own, teasing him dangerously. <em>“ I’ll see you in hell.” </em></p><p>“I’m looking forward to it.” Marvin whispered back, a familiar smile gracing his lips. “turns out you were the angel sent to take me too.”</p><p>He held Whizzer’s hand, interlacing every finger until he finally felt safe enough to leave.</p><p>His head lolled to the side as his breathing slowly diminished.</p><p>They were found intertwined, cold and stiff as corpses are and their fingers had to be prised apart, broken almost clean off for their post-mortems as they moulded together like a statue.</p><p>Real life Romeo and Juliet.</p><p>But pretty boy would’ve always insisted that the mayor were Juliet, Romeo killed. Juliet stayed strong. Romeo followed; Juliet loved. Romeo didn’t fear death. Juliet pretended she didn’t either.</p><p>Romeo let emotion cloud his judgment.</p><p>Juliet knew the ending just refused to believe it.</p><p>Real life Romeo and Juliet, laid to rest in separate plots in the sweet cemetery beneath a willow tree, because no one knew what they could have been. </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0039"><h2>39. a conman's kiss part 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Although not much happens in this chapter, I very much love this. </p><p>THE ENDING!!!!! IM KINDA SQUEALING A LITTLE AHHH I LOVE IT</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Shut the door.”</p><p>“oh, so no, ‘hello Whizzer’ or ‘my god whizzer you look stunning today’, Why thank you Marv, I got laid last night for the first time in two years.”</p><p>Marvin started coughing profoundly as his coffee went down the wrong way, almost dropping his mug in surprise. Coffee spilled over the rim, wetting his suit trousers, and Whizzer was instantly by his side.</p><p>“here, let me help you with that.” He said with a slick smile as he removed a handkerchief from his pocket, beginning to wipe Marvin’s crotch with much enthusiasm.</p><p>Marvin turned as bright as a cherry tomato, “okay stop!” He spluttered, “what the fuck Mr Brown, this is a place of work, and I will send your ass back to jail.”</p><p>“that’s not the only place you can send my ass.” Whizzer said with a wink. Marvin reached across his desk for the phone and Whizzer slammed his hand down on it, “okay, sorry, inappropriate I get it. it’s just-“ He relaxed slightly, smiling with the only real smile Marvin had seen yet, “I don’t exactly have any friends and I- I wanted to tell someone.”</p><p>Marvin sighed, massaging his temples, “ I’m happy for you Whizzer.” He said, his cheeks flushing.</p><p>“thank you puppy.”</p><p>“agent Feldman,” he corrected as if by instinct, “ and I need your help- ”</p><p>“-getting off? Sure, meet me in the bathroom in ten minutes, public spaces are a real turn on.” He had begun to stare dreamily into space, and suddenly stood up straight, “allegedly.”</p><p>Marvin’s eyebrow raised “allegedly?”</p><p>“there’s a rule, law thing against it I think.” Whizzer said, “so, ten minutes?”</p><p>“we are no way, <em>ever</em>, <em>in hell</em>, fucking in the toilet’s at the fucking FBI.”</p><p>Whizzer pouted playfully, “but hon, you’re so tense. fuck me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you’ve had sex in years.”</p><p>“excuse you, I had sex last night.”</p><p>Whizzer suddenly looked very interested, sitting down in the chair opposite him, with a dramatic flourish, “what was his name?”</p><p>“Trina.”</p><p>Whizzer made a scandalous face, “ooh, sound’s suspiciously feminine.” He teased.</p><p>“because it was my wife, what is your fascination with me being gay?”</p><p>Whizzer made a face, “because you are.”</p><p>Marvin scowled darkly, “I’m not”</p><p>“sure.” Whizzer whispered, “now what did you need my help for?” Marvin sighed and pushed across a file over the table, trying to ignore the way Whizzer suited the turtle neck, and the slicked back hair. His face dropped as he opened it, “this is your wife’s visa bill.”</p><p>“yeah, I got it all, her eBay bids, film rentals, library books.”</p><p>Whizzer deadpanned, “so… you’re stalking your wife because you forgot your anniversary and still haven’t bought her anything.”</p><p>“sorry, want to compare notes?” Marvin said, eyebrow raised as he remembered how Whizzer knew their anniversary when even he didn’t.</p><p>“touché” He read through the summary at the bottom, “yeah I don’t think, ‘anything Italian but not anchovies’ is gonna be your answer.”</p><p>Marvin sighed loudly before leaning across the table, “help me. Please I’m desperate. You’re the romantic, what’s the deal with the wine bottle?”</p><p>Whizzer put on a look of faux confusion, “the wine bottle?”</p><p>“the one I found you with.”</p><p>Whizzer shook his head gently, “It’s an 82’ Bordeaux.” He stated plainly</p><p>“yeah, costs $800 a bottle.” Marvin said as though it weren’t a question</p><p>“when it’s full. I got it empty.” Whizzer smiled, “when I met this guy, I had nothing, <em>we </em>had nothing. I stole the bottle and he used to fill it up with whatever cheap wine we could afford. And we’d sit in that crappy art studio and drink it over cold pizza and pretend we were living in the côte d’Azur or Paris or-“</p><p>“and how’d that work out for you?”</p><p>“it didn’t.” Whizzer paused, thinking” Because that bottle was a promise of a better life, and what he got was a guy locked away for half a decade.” He wiped his eye, “make any promises to Trina? Or you think what she really wants is-“ he looked at the list in front of him “-scented candles. Actually, I would buy scented candles, great for sex.”</p><p>They sat together in silence for a moment before there was a knock on the door. “can I come in or are you two fucking.” Cordelia called out. Marvin leapt up, opening the door with a stormy look on his face.</p><p>“what the fuck is everyone’s deal, I am not gay!”</p><p>“sure puppy.” Whizzer said, putting on that conceited pout that Marvin found hellishly annoying.</p><p>And slightly hot. But only a little.</p><p>“and we have two eyeballs and two ears.” Cordelia muttered under her breath, causing Whizzer to almost fall on the floor laughing.</p><p>Marvin huffed aggressively, “what have you got for me Delia?”</p><p>“Our guy’s leaving the country.” Cordelia said, all playfulness instantly leaving her voice, “ he booked a flight through some charter company in Barcelona for the 19<sup>th </sup>.”</p><p>“one week. damnit Whizzer, seeing you must’ve tipped him off!”</p><p>Whizzer put a hand up, “he’s going to Spain, that’s something.”</p><p>“is there any connections between him and the books yet, or the bonds or the murder? We need to make the arrest before he leaves the country.”</p><p>Cordelia shook her head, “no, he’s impressive alrgiht, got lots of international holdings. But he’s never the one to do the dirty work.”</p><p>“get all agents on this.” Marvin ordered. “I want to know every single thing about this guy, anything gets in the way—”</p><p>“-forge your signature. Always do boss.”</p><p>“hey, how come I’m not allowed to forge your signature.” Whizzer suddenly protested</p><p>Cordelia got near his face, dancing in a victory way out of the room, “because he doesn’t trust you.” She sung.</p><p>Whizzer turned to Marvin to protest, but he had already started pacing around his office, “look, if you’re right, we have one week to connect him to the Spanish victory bond.” Marvin stopped, avoiding whizzer’s eye contact at all cost, “if we lose him…” he trailed off, turning back to see him, “Whizzer, if we lose him, you’re back in.” his tone was sombre and sad as though he would miss Whizzer if he were to go back to jail, “I can’t save you.”</p><p>There was a heavy silence and Marvin sat back down at his desk, cautious to how Whizzer would react.</p><p>Whizzer jumped up, “okay lets go then!” he said, resembling either a child, or a puppy, Marvin wasn’t sure which. “we don’t have any second to spare!”</p><p>“give me a moment.” He said, looking down at his crotch with an embarrassed flush.</p><p>Whizzer stared plainly at Marvin before his mouth dropped into a perfect ‘o’, “oh my god, you’re hard.” Whizzer exclaimed, giggling, instantly piecing it together, “and we were literally talking about a serial killer, do they turn you on? I mean Richard Ramirez was gorgeous, so was Ted Bundy, oh and Erik Menendez, he could rail me into next week and-“</p><p>Marvin suddenly picked up his empty coffee mug, “of course not!” he exclaimed, embarrassed, “I just need to… to drink my coffee.”</p><p>“sure sure sure. You go drink your coffee; I’m going to go tell Cordelia you’re turned on by serial killers.”</p><p>-</p><p>Whizzer walked straight through the house to the dining room, throwing his hat at the human shaped shadow in the dark.</p><p>“you’re late.” It said, followed by, “ow!” as the hat hit him in the face.</p><p>Whizzer rolled his eyes, turning on the lights, “give me a break Mendel, I’m a working man now.”</p><p>Mendel bent over and picked the hat up, putting it on his head, “so?”</p><p>“we were right, Hagen’s our guy.” Whizzer replied smiling.</p><p>Mendel let out a half laugh, half scoff, “of course we were”</p><p>“and I was stupid and impulsive and he saw me.” Whizzer said, kicking himself over and over again. “I have one week to link him to all his shit.”</p><p>“one week, or what?” Mendel asked, getting up from the table to walk around to Whizzer.</p><p>Whizzer ran a hand through his hair, displacing it, “I’ll go back.”</p><p>“no, no, no”</p><p>“yeah.” There was a pause, “did you find anything out to do with <em>him</em>?”</p><p>Mendel smiled, walking back around the table to wear a satchel sat on the top, “apparently, if a tree falls in the forest, it does make a sound.” He slid a printed photograph across the table, and there he was.</p><p>His lover, in fact the only man he had ever loved, with the almost afraid look on his face, and strong sturdy hand on his shoulder, trapping him.</p><p>“I might lose him again Mendel, I- I can’t lose him again.”</p><p>“lose him? I just found him.” Mendel exclaimed excitedly.</p><p>“so did he.” Whizzer said, pointing to the hand on his shoulder, the ring he was wearing as clear as day, “so did he.”</p><p>-</p><p>“fine, shit I’m coming!” Whizzer called out as he heard a third knock on the door, grabbing tissues from on top of his toilet to try and stop the bleeding from the small nick on his jaw from shaving.</p><p>He held up the towel around his waist in one hand and pushed out of the room with the other, storming on the front door.</p><p>“yes, fuck you, I’m fucking coming, patience is a virtue you know…” He trailed off as he was suddenly face to face with his boss, “Agent Feldman?” He asked, his face instantly drifting down to his extremely short towel and uncovered chest, “what are you doing here-“</p><p>Marvin cut him off “what exactly did you say this morning.” He said urgently, snapping his fingers as if to try and prompt a memory.</p><p>Whizzer smiled, confused slightly, “what? When? I said a lot this morning-“</p><p>“in my office, we were talking about me having- having <em>you know </em>with my wife and you said—”</p><p>A smug smile came over whizzers face and his hands planted themselves sassily onto his hips. “I said, ‘fuck me if I’m wrong but-‘“</p><p>Suddenly Marvin’s hands were square on Whizzer’s chest, pushing him into the apartment, slamming closed the door with his foot and pulled him into a passionate kiss, hands roaming freely down as the towel fell out of Whizzer’s startled grasp, dropping to the floor.</p><p>They fell over onto the wooden floorboards, knocking over a lamp, and between gasps for air, Marvin growled it.</p><p>“you’re wrong.”</p><p>Whizzer smiled, flipping Marvin so he was on all fours over him, “well then, you better fuck me.”</p><p>-</p><p> </p>
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